


I Am The Storm

by your_friendly_neighborhood_fan_author



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Also a look at how the events of the series would change with Della there instead of Donald, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And Webby is his daughter, Basically this is an AU where Donald gets stuck on the moon and not Della, Donald Duck Lost in space, Undergoing a Major Rewrite, Updates are incosistent to say the least, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-01-03 14:16:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 68,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21180809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_friendly_neighborhood_fan_author/pseuds/your_friendly_neighborhood_fan_author
Summary: It is said that fate has a predestined path for everyone to follow. However, when one manages to avoid that path, fate inevitably chooses another soul to traverse that trail.Della Duck avoids her destiny of space and suffering that crucial night. Hence another is chosen, and that poor being’s name, the one preordained for the freshly formed path of torment, is Donald Duck.This is his sister’s story. His nephews’ story. His uncle’s story. His daughter’s story. But above all, this is his story.





	1. One Fateful Night Can Change The Course of History

**Author's Note:**

> In case you didn't read the tags, there will be quite a bit of language and violence. So be warned and all that. Anyhow, with my legal obligations out of the way, enjoy the story!

Scrooge had really gone too far this time.

It hadn’t taken Donald long to figure out that his Uncle Scrooge was hiding something from him, and not long after that to realise that The Spear of Selene was built behind his back. Donald had warned them of the dangers, but his family always had the terrible habit of never listening to him.

So, he found himself in the cockpit of a spaceship, trying to convince his sister that the voyage was too dangerous.

“You have kids to worry about now Della! You can’t just leave them!” He said exasperated

“Come on Don. It’s just one more adventure before they hatch, it’s not a big deal.” she said nonchalantly 

“Besides, aren’t YOU supposed to be the one taking care of them right now? I mean hypocrite much?” she said in an accusatory tone

“I left them with Mrs. Beakley, they’ll be safe with her. Besides, there's a difference between going to talk to someone, AND GOING TO SPACE! He yelled, frustrated beyond all imagining

“This isn’t like any other adventure Dell, this is space we’re talking about. Anything goes wrong, anything at all, and you’re toast.” he reasoned

“But, don’t you want to know what’s out there? We could give our kids the stars Don. The greatest adventure of all time is right in front of us, think about it.” she responded

“Della, how about instead of giving your kids the stars, we give them their mom. Safe and sound, and there for them.” he persuaded

“Besides, it’s not like this is the end of our adventures. After all this is Della Duck we’re talking about, as in ‘nothing can stop Della Duck,’ Della Duck.” he said with a touch of an eyeroll, but still fondly.

“We’ll take the kids on all sorts of adventures, and I’m sure that raising them is going to be quite the hassle by itself. But you need to be there to do that, I need you to be there to do that.” he said looking down, he was sure Della would rebuke him. Trying to keep Della from an adventure was like trying to keep Uncle Scrooge from his gold. It just didn’t work out.

“All right Mr. ‘most daring adventurer of all time,’ you convinced me.” she said, complete with air quotes and her own eye roll. Causing Donald to completely ignore her small jab, and instead breath a massive internal sigh of relief. 

“C’mon, I bet we can get back home in time for dinner.” She said walking past him and starting to descend the ladder. Donald made his way to follow her, until… 

It was one button, one lousy button that Donald just happened to brush on his way out. But, of course with Donald’s luck it happened to be the irreversible launch sequence.

“60, 59, 58, 57, 56…” the computer counted down, as the glass dome sealed and locked itself.

“Oh, fu-”

Della had reached the bottom of the ladder, when she realized that her brother hadn’t followed her down. It was only a second after that, that the main engine ignited, and Della ran towards the control room. What was Donald doing?

She rushed into the control room, and found her Uncle Scrooge there looking shocked.

“Della? But I thought you were in The Spear!” he exclaimed, sounding incredibly confused.

But Della completely ignored her uncle’s questioning and instead pushed past him to the control panel, and turning on the comm that directly linked to the Spear’s cockpit.

“Donald, Don do you copy? What are you doing!?” she asked, half yelling. Donald couldn’t fly a biplane, let alone a spaceship, what the hell was he thinking?

“Wait, Donald is in the ship?!” a scottish voice yelled from behind her evidently not keeping up with the recent sequence of events.

“I copy,” a crackled, and slightly distorted voice came on the other side of the comms.  
“I accidentally started the irreversible launch sequence, and I have no idea how to fly this thing.” Donald stated in a calm, matter-of-fact way, considering the circumstances.

“Donald I’ll help you pilot this thing. We’ll just have to let the launch sequence finish, turn the bird around in space and land it again. First make sure that you have the spacesuit on, there should be a spare in the back, then strap yourself in.” she instructed as slowly and calmly as she could.

“Already done, I have about three seconds until takeoff.” he retorted quickly.

Della heard the rumbling, and saw on the large computer screen in front of her, as The Spear shot into the air with a massive plume of fire and smoke.

This was possibly the worst experience of Donald Duck’s life.

He had never shared his sister’s enthusiasm for aircraft, instead preferring water transportation. But this, this, took his fear of flight to a ludicrous level. 

The sheer amount of g’s pulling down on his body was ridiculous. An ache was developing in his head as the sky he could see in the viewport grew darker and darker. Until he had at last broken free of the atmosphere and found himself surrounded by an inky blackness, only interrupted by small pinpricks of bright white light, and… whatever that was.

It seemed to come right toward him, a swirling mass of black and purple smoke, and occasional flashes of blinding lightning.

“Umm, guys, are you picking up on this? What is that thing?” he asked into the mic built into his helmet, now slightly panicked.

“Donald, that’s a cosmic storm. You won’t be able to turn around now, you’d just lose power. The only option is to pilot through it.” Scrooge’s voice resounded throughout the ship, only to be replaced by that of his sister’s. 

“Alright Donald, you see the throttle? Take ahold of it and pull it toward you a small amount. You’re gonna have to go right through the epicenter of the storm, so this has to be precise.” Della instructed

Donald naturally complied, and was soon consumed by the inky darkness of the storm. His only illumination being the white hot flashes of light. 

“Good job, alright now…” his sister’s voice said

He proceeded to do exactly as his sister instructed, dodging violent clouds and bolts of pure energy, and he had almost made it. He could see the starry inkinesss of space, and the moon glowing brightly, he was so close, until…

Della never saw it coming. She had directed Donlad through the storm, until the very last bolt struck The Spear. 

The large computer screen that previously displayed the ship’s position in space, went black for a split second, before displaying two words that illuminated the room in an ominous red. Two words that would stay with Della for the next decade.

TRANSMISSION LOST 

A sob escaped her as she fell to her knees, tears flowing freely down her face, wetting the space suit she still wore.

She couldn’t believe it. She wouldn’t believe it. He couldn’t be gone. Her friend, her brother, her twin, her partner in crime, her eggmate, her companion for life couldn’t be gone. Donald Duck couldn’t just be gone.

Some hour later, Della opened the door to the mansion and moved toward the living room, where a soft orange glow originated. It was the exact same as when she left, almost as if the house had somehow avoided the tragedy that had struck. But not for much longer, she was the harbinger of the very devastation that drove her here.

Her legs felt like they were made of solid steel as she dragged herself toward the origin of the light. There she found Agent 22 and four eggs, three in one basket, and one in another. All four surrounded by heated blankets and thick insulation. 

“Oh, so I see Donald was successful in convincing you to stay then?” 22 asked from her seat by the lit fireplace.

Della didn’t respond, and instead flopped herself down on the couch, staring at the singular egg in its basket.Realization of what just happened hit her like a sack of bricks, Donald was gone and he wasn’t coming back. 

Her uncle appeared in the doorway, and Della turned to face him, tears once again filling her eyes.

“Uncle Scrooge, what have we done?” she asked distraught, the tears starting to run down her face.

“Lass, are you alright?” her uncle asked worriedly as he hurried to the couch and took a seat beside her.

“Of course I’m not alright Scrooge, why should I be? Why should any of us be? Donald’s gone, and it's all our fault.” she sobbed hysterically, her head falling into her hands, covering her eyes.

“Oh lass, no one could have known this would have happened.” Scrooge spoke softly, and Della felt a comforting hand wrap around her shoulders in an obvious attempt to console her.

“Didn’t he though?” Della lifted up her head, slowly looking up at Scrooge’s shocked expression. “Didn’t Donald know something like this would happen? He tried to warn us, we didn’t listen and now who gets to pay the price? Donald. It was always Donald who got to suffer for our antics, and now, now he’s gone forever because of it.” 

Oh. Saying it out loud was so much worse. She had known as soon as those hideous crimson words appeared on that monitor. But for some reason, saying it out loud, made it so much more real. Too real.

“Donald might not be gone though. We could build another ship, and go on a voyage to find him.” Scrooge spoke, starting to gain momentum, his volume increasing as he went.  
“And, once we get him back, we can explore the stars. Our entire family just like we wanted to do.” he finished with a small smile, not realising the mistake he just made.

“You don’t get it do you?” Della asked in a dangerously low voice, her anger building. She wasn’t a usually angry person, not like...her brother. But now, all she saw was a shaking, distorted view as her entire body trembled. She finally understood,, the rage, the hate her twin endured daily. Because this? Her uncle’s words. He had gone too far. 

CRACK!  
A sickening crunch echoed through the room as Della’s fist connected with her uncle’s beak. He fell against the wall, blood dripping from his nose, and running in rivulets down his beak..  
“Do you not realize what we just did?! We just killed a man Scrooge. Don’t you understand? We, as of now, are murderers Scrooge. You and I, we were the ones who wanted to traverse the stars, not Donald! And yet, he’s the one gone. Do you know why that is? It’s because Donald knew when to take a risk. He tried to tell us that this risk wasn’t worth it. He did his damndest to keep us from this. Hell, he paid with his life to save us from it, and what do you do?” 

“You go right back running to it. You refuse to stop. Fuck, Scrooge! We just lost Donald to space! And you really still want to go there?! You want to bring our family there?! Are you insane!”  
“Listen, I am far from being perfect Scrooge, I’ve made mistakes same as you, but I learn from them, I change because of them. But you, you, just want everything to be the same, even if you sacrifice Donald to do it. After all, he always was the ‘expendable one,’ right?” she spat, disgust and venom lacing her voice. She turned away from her crumpled uncle, and took a deep breath, trying to get back some semblance of control. She sighed through her nose, and turned back to Scrooge, her voice low and full of conviction.  
“I can’t do this anymore Scrooge. I refuse for anyone else in this family to become expendable or let them get hurt, or lose their life because of you. Not me, not these kids, not anyone.” and with that she picked up the two baskets, containing the eggs, but hesitated as she went to storm past Scrooge. “Despite all your denial Scrooge, you have to know deep down that Donald is gone. We killed him, Scrooge. Not anyone else. Us.” and with that parting note, Della stormed out of the manion, not once looking back. 

A long walk later, and Della found herself surrounded by the salty air of the marina. She had nowhere else to go, she had still been living with Uncle Scrooge, but Donald had moved out as soon as he was eighteen. Right out of the mansion and onto this. Della looked at the house boat in front of her, it was a bit shabby, but it would work. At least for now. 

She fished his keyring out of her pocket, and unlocked the door. She let herself in, and set the eggs down on the kitchen table. This felt so wrong. His key, his home, his furniture. It was never supposed to be this way. But she didn’t have an option. Any day now her kids would hatch, and it would not be long after that when Donald’s kid would come into the world. She wasn’t ready for this. Being on her own.She just didn’t have the resources for four kids, it was a fact. But she would find a way. She had to. Because she couldn’t go back, not now, not ever.

She had to be ready for that inevitable outcome. But, in the meantime, she needed to get an actual job. She went to her brother’s desk, and picked up the daily newspaper that resided there, turning to the wanted ads. She was just reading about a machine shop on an airfield needing mechanics, when she heard a small cracking. 

Della sprinted over to the basket of three eggs, and sure enough, the one to the far left had a large crack in it. She rushed to get a video camera, and started recording just as the second fracture appeared in the egg. A bit of orangish-yellow was showing, and with another crack, a beak found its way into the outside world. The rest of the egg was soon chipped away, and a small yellow duckling emerged. It’s eyes were wide and curious, taking in the world around it, and chirping softly.

“It’s a boy,” she whispered to herself, watching as the duckling shook off the small pieces of egg shell that were stuck to him.

The next egg started moving not three seconds after the first had hatched, and some irritated chirping came from inside. But, unlike his sibling, this one was violent in the way it attacked the shell around it. The egg was soon reduced to shards, and there sat another boy. Who unlike his more reserved brother, screamed for attention immediately after catching sight of his mother. 

Della, however, didn’t have time to take care of him yet, as the third egg started to shake and move. Cracks quickly formed all around the egg, and a small fuzzy head popped out. It decided to extract itself from the egg instead of breaking it, and nimbly weaseled its way out the opening on the top. The egg shell still resting on his head, the youngest went to bury his head in the blankets making up the nest.

Della left the camera momentarily to grab their blankets. Red for the oldest, blue for the middle, and green for the youngest. She wrapped them up in their blankets and set them inside their crib, and silently thanking her brother for being ready for the kids hatching.

She picked up the camera again, and hovered over her kids. The names Jet, Turbo, and Rebel almost came to her mouth. But she shook her head, to dispel the thought. Those names were reminders of who she used to be, a reckless adrenaline junkie who didn’t know when to quit, and she had to be more than that now. She had to be responsible, loving, willing to put their needs above her own. And with that thought, three other names came to mind. Ancestral names. Ones that inspired intelligence, leadership, and power respectively.

“Hubert, Dewford, and Llewellyn.” she said out loud

“Huey, Dewey, and Louie.”

Some three months later, Della had just relieved the babysitter of her duties. She walked over to the pen where her sons resided.

“Hey boys, were you good for the babysitter?” she asked, not expecting an answer. 

They had just begun to make nonsensical babbling noises about a week ago. But they smiled at the sight of her, and she took that as a win.

Della then made her way over to the basket, where Donald’s kid still resided in their egg. 

Three months, he had been gone for three months, and Della still couldn’t comprehend it.

Sure he had been gone before, sometimes for months at a time. But he was never more than one phone call away. 

Not anymore though, she wouldn’t ever get to hear his broken voice again. Many times she had considered going back to her uncle, trying to reconcile with some of her only living family.

It was the memory of Donald that kept her from doing so. He wouldn’t want the kids in danger, and she knew that Scrooge would put them in perilous situations, either intentionally or accidentally. 

Then once again, her thoughts were interrupted by a piercing, cracking sound. She rushed over to the single egg left, and sure enough, fractures were beginning to appear. And once again, Della found herself tripping over her own feet in order to grab her video recorder.

She focused on the egg just as a tiny hand thrust its way through the shell. The rest of the body was soon to follow. Not attacking the egg in the same way that Dewey had, but still determined to be free of its confines.

Not soon after, there was another duckling in Della’s life. A girl this time. So after wrapping her up in a yellow blanket, Della started to rummage through Donald’s papers. They both had written down names for their kids. Della’s own loopy handwriting stuck out, bearing ridiculous names, and Don’s more practical script, spelling out far more logical possibilities.

“Aha,” she exclaimed triumphantly, finally fishing out the small yellow sheet.  
“So,” she said walking back over to the duckling. “You’re Donald’s daughter, huh? My niece?” she interrogated playfully, as the duckling chirped cheerfully.

“Well, that would make you Webbigail Duck” 

“Webby for short.”


	2. Della DuckTales (Woo-ooo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So DuckTales, but Della not Donald and Webby lives with HDL from the start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I run off of the assumption that my reading audience has seen Ducktales. If you haven't first off what are you doing here this is a Ducktales story, and secondly go see it it's really good.

\-------------------------------------------------10 years later-------------------------------------------------

His Mom was definitely going to be late for work. Huey knew that much, but he still had to get her out of their apartment by 8:00 am for this plan to work. 

He watched as she stumbled out of her bedroom, dressed in her mechanic attire, the bags under her eyes being incredibly obvious to spot.

“Coffee, now.” she groaned.

“Got it right here Mom. You need to get to work.” Huey glanced at the clock, 7:54 plenty of time.

“Is that babysitter here yet?” she asked, taking a long drink from the coffee cup.

“Umm, no. But, I made you breakfast.” he offered, desperate to cause a distraction. This plan was falling apart, they had meant to get her out the door before too many questions were asked.

“Ugh, she should already be here,” Della said, ignoring her son, picking up the phone and dialing.

“Where are you!” she demanded as soon as the other line picked up.

“I-I don’t know,” an elderly bird responded.

“What do you mean we ‘changed our address’ I did no such thing!” she yelled and promptly slammed the phone down on the receiver.

“Crazy old bird.” she commented

Huey looked at the time, 7:59 he needed to get her out the door, now.

“Mom, you’re going to be late for work!” he exclaimed, practically pushing her out of the apartment door.

“But what about you guys, I can’t just leave you!” she protested, as Louie joined him by his side. Back up, thank goodness.

“Go on, we’ll be fine here.” Louie said, trying to convince his mother.

“Alright, fine.” Della said about to concede, until a loud revving was heard, coming from outside.

“Wait, where are Dewey and Webby?” she asked suspiciously

“Still asleep.” Louie said

“Who’s Webby?” Huey asked, and immediately regretted it.

That was all the confirmation Della needed, as she exited the building, and found Webby and Dewey hotwiring her car.

“Alright boys, we’ll be to St. Canard and back before anyone realizes we’re gone!” Dewey said, face alight with excitement.

“But I’m going too.” Webby replied seeming confused

“Yeah, of course. ‘Boys’ is a both gender term if you use the right context.” Dewey corrected, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world

“Oh, okay!” Webby said, her face now matching Dewey’s in excitement.

Until they looked up, and saw Della’s very much not amused face.

They had been piled into the back of the jalopy, and were proceeding to blame one another for being caught.

“You were supposed to get her out by 8:00 Hubert.” Dewey accused 

“Oh yeah, you two weren’t supposed to start the car until I gave the signal, Dewford.” Huey shot back

“We never get to do anything!” Louie lamented from in between his brothers and cousin.

“Now, come one kids. If we want to keep this family together, than we all have to do things we don’t want to do.” Della said as she typed an address into her phone.

“McDuck Manor.” the GPS said, displaying directions.

“McDuck Manor! As in the Scrooge McDuck?!” Webby exclaimed

“You’re finally going to sell us.” Louie commented

“I’m NOT going to sell you!” Della sighed. 

“He owes me, so I’m going to drop you guys off there for the day.” she explained, but it went unnoticed as they were all sharing trivia on Duckburg’s most famous, or infamous adventurer/trillionaire, depending on who you ask. 

“I heard he unraveled the secret of the chupacabra, turns out it was just a shaved bear!” Huey said

“I heard he defeated a stone monster, and carved a statue of himself out of its corpse!” Dewey shared

“I heard he collects treasure, just so he can swim in it!” Louie contributed

“Well I heard that he is the richest, smartest, most daring adventurer of all time!” Webby exclaimed.

At that Della almost voiced the fallacies in the stories her kids had heard, almost. 

Of course, it had been like this since Della moved out. Scrooge hadn’t done anything of note, so instead he spread inaccuracies and legends to, presumably, inflate his own ego. 

For example, it was the effort of the three of them camping out for a week to trap that shaved bear.

It was actually Donald who defeated that rock monster, with help from her and Scrooge. 

And, of course, it was Donald who had held the title of ‘the most daring adventurer of all time’ a name ironically given to her brother by Scrooge himself. Hell, the only one that was completely true was he did in fact swim in his fortune, and Della was sure that he didn’t mention who helped him amass it.

She had found her way to the gate of McDuck Manor, because if she was honest, she didn’t need the directions in the first place. After all, even if she didn’t know how to get there by heart, the Manor was on top of the biggest hill in Duckburg.

So she rolled down the window and buzzed the intercom.

“22, open up! I need to get out of here before…” she began

“Hey! Jettison that jalopy from my driveway this instance, you deadbeat.” an angry scottish voice called out.

“He gets here.” she finished. 

This was not going to be pretty. She hadn’t seen her uncle in person for ten years, and honestly? She still wanted to avoid him, since the more time she spent away from her uncle, the more she realized how right her brother had been. 

Whenever he complained about a risk, or an adventure, especially when they put him in unnecessary danger, and then laughed at his misfortune. They simply brushed off his gripes and focused on the next adventure. It was frankly sick how they treated him, and then Scrooge decided it would be best if his name was eradicated from any and all sources. Just to cover up a mistake, that Della was sure Scrooge wouldn’t admit to. 

But, despite all these infuriating facts, Della had to stay composed for the sake of her kids. They needed a place to stay, and Scrooge was her last option.

So she got out of her car, and came face to face with the duck she had avoided for a decade.

“Della Duck.” he said in a deep tone

“Uncle Scrooge.” she replied seethingly

“UNCLE SCROOGE!” muffled yelling came from the car as all four ducklings started to whoop and cheer.

“So…” she began but was immediately interrupted.

“So… Jettison that jalopy from my driveway this instant! You DEADBEAT!” he yelled

“I would love to, it just so happens that I have to get to work.” she said trying her absolute hardest to keep her cool, and not start insulting him.

“Then why are you standing here?!” he said exasperated

“22 said that you would watch the kids.” she explained 

“Can you do that without putting them in danger?” Della asked in a tone that clearly indicated that she didn’t think he could.

“Of course I can!” he said

“Really? I don’t think you can.” she said raising an eyebrow, she knew that Scrooge couldn’t resist a challenge.

“Excuse me!? I am Scrooge McDuck, I can do anything! I can take care of wee ducks.” he said boastfully, scoffing at the indication that he couldn’t do something.

“Great, then you won’t have any trouble for an entire day, then?” she said beckoning for the kids to let themselves out of the car.

“Of course not! Wait what?” Scrooge said realizing what he had just agreed to.

“Huey, Dewey, Louie, Webby, meet Scrooge McDuck. Remember, no tricks, no lies, no trouble.” she said

Three choruses of “Yes, mom.” along with one “Yes, Aunt Della.” followed, and if Della didn’t know better, she would have sworn she saw her uncle flinch at her niece's response.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” she said leveling one last glare at her uncle, before hopping back in her car and backing out of the driveway. She had to get back to her mechanic shop, pronto.

She was supposed to have a meeting with some big company who should be offering the company she worked for a contract.

The business she worked for specialized in hiring mechanics, and then sending them off to work on a project for a couple days. Usually it was just somebody’s plane or boat that had broken down. But this was supposed to be a big contract, as in pay raise indicating big. 

So needless to say it wasn’t great that she was late to work by almost half an hour.

Still she pulled into the hanger parking lot, and went to talk to her boss.

“Ah, Della, you’re here. Half an hour late, but still here.” her boss, a gruff bulldog said.

“You are damn lucky that no customers are here yet, otherwise I would have definitely docked your pay.” he continued

“Sorry chief, had to drop off the kids. Anyway, was there any project you wanted me to get to work on specifically, or…?” she began

“No, that tycoon should be here any minute, and he specifically requested that you were attached to the project.” the boss said

“Any idea who it is?” Della asked, wondering who her temporary boss would be.

“Yeah, some guy named Flintheart Glomgold, some scottish trillionaire apparently.” her boss said, occupied with something on his computer.

Flintheart Glomgold, she felt like she should recognize that name. One of her or Donald’s old friends? Enemies maybe? If she couldn’t place it, it can’t have been anyone THAT important right? 

Of course, in the end it didn’t really matter, a paycheck is a paycheck. Who knows? Maybe she would actually be able to pay that month’s rent on time, instead of trying to barter with the landlord again.

The short, kilt wearing duck strolled into the meeting room confidently, and took his seat readily. 

“So, I need a mechanic.” the older duck started.

“I would like to hire Della Duck to maintain the peak condition of a ship during a two day voyage, and am willing to offer three thousand dollars for her services.” he said, getting right to the point and leaving no room for negotiations.

Della could practically see her boss’s eyes turn into dollar signs, and wasn’t surprised when he readily agreed to the deal, quickly signing the needed paperwork. So it seemed she would be shipped out to sea. Great. Just, great.

\---------------------------------------------Meanwhile---------------------------------------------------------

The four kids had followed Scrooge up to his front door, where he promptly left them standing outside. The door was then opened by a large woman, who looked kind enough, and let them in. 

Almost immediately, they were locked in a room with only marbles to keep them entertained. But, after a little while of Webby and Dewey’s efforts they managed to break the doorknob off, and escape into the rest of the house. They found their way into a mysterious room not long after. 

“Whoah, what do you think this stuff is?” Dewey voiced, looking around at the many relics. 

“I don’t know, but we should be careful. According to the stories, most of Scrooge’s belongings are cursed in some way. It’s probably better not to touch anything, especially something in a glass case.” Huey warned, directing his last comment specifically at Louie, who was ogling a strange looking glove.

“Wow, guys come look at this!” Webby called from a corner of the room.

As they crowded around, they could see the object of Webby’s interest was a painting. The top right corner was torn heavily, but it still depicted Scrooge, fighting a villainous pirate ghost, and… Della Duck dueling her own foe.

“Welp, this entire room is fake. Aunt Della has never done anything dangerous like that.” Webby stated in a matter-of-factly, and the triplets nodded in a solemn way. Their mother wasn’t exactly known for taking risks. Ever.

“Whaaat, so none of this is real?” Dewey lamented, doubtful.

“I mean, what about this painting,” Dewey said pointing at a picture depicting Scrooge with a shaved bear.

“Photoshop.” Huey answered

“Alright, well what about this haunted treasure chest?” Dewey said throwing open the lid, only to have an old blanket float out of it.

“What? You mean this Halloween decoration?” Webby demanded, until… the blanket fell off to reveal the same ghost from the painting. 

It roared and demanded for revenge on Scrooge McDuck, causing them all to scatter. 

Dewey picked up a sword and pointed it at the ghost, only for it to fly out of his hand, and fly through the ghost repeatedly. 

Louie stumbled backwards, and landed right on a saddle, causing a headless horse to be conjured from thin air. 

Huey fell into a gong attached to a statue causing it to resound around the room.

Webby meanwhile, also searched for a weapon. Finally coming up with a cutlass, that still seemed to be in good condition. Granted, Webby had no idea how to fence, but desperate times and all that.

Webby peeked out from behind the round stone she was hiding behind, and beckoned for her cousins to join her there. As the ghost was distracted by the sword flying through him.

The triplets quickly made their way over and started to formulate a plan.

“Well, there are four of us and three of them, so as long as they stay… Oh never mind, they teamed up.” Huey said, as the ghost grabbed the magical sword out of the air and jumped on the headless horse’s back. 

The spirit charged at them, and they ran. Avoiding it’s sword strikes, Webby dropped the sword. This day was quickly falling apart.

“Ugh, what is this? How do we stop something that’s already dead?” Dewey questioned just as the glowing sword was thrown at him, instead hitting the golden gong.

“What in Dismal Downs is going on here?!” Scrooge demanded from the open doorway.

“Uh, oh.” all four said in unison. Fortunately Scrooge didn’t have much time to be angry at them, as there was a vengeful ghost out for him.

“Scrooge McDuck!” the ghost roared, throwing the sword towards Scrooge.

“Aye that’s me! Say, what will it take to shuffle you off to the afterlife?” Scrooge asked

“The head of Scrooge McDuck.” the pirate roared once again throwing his boomerang type sword toward Scrooge, decapitating a statue of him in the process. Scrooge caught the stone bust and tossed it toward the spirit. 

“There's your head.” Scrooge stated with a smirk

“I should have been more specific!!!” the pirate lamented, as he melted away. The sword clattering to the ground, and the stone head falling squarely on the neck of the headless horse, who made some odd clopping sound before running off.

“Why in Dismal Downs are you kids in here? I told you to stay in the room!” Scrooge yelled.

“Yeah, the claustrophobic one with no exit that you locked us in?” Louie asked, more than a touch frazzled from current events.

“Yes, that room!” Scrooge said, not seeming to realize the multiple insults that could be drawn from Louie’s question.

“Well, better question, why do you have a secret room full of mysteries?” Webby asked, a bit annoyed but still wanting to get the truth from the old man. 

“Pshaw,” Scrooge scoffed “A secret room? This is the garage.” he said proving his point by opening the large overhead door, to reveal dusty magazines, and a hose.

“Who keeps a homicidal ghost in their garage! Are you crazy!?” Huey shouted, almost hysterical.

“Hey! I will not be spoken to that way, I am Scr…” he started accidentally hitting the golden gong for a third time. Seconds later cracks appeared on the statue, and a giant golden dragon burst from it’s stony imprisonment. Scrooge swiftly seized the tail of the beast as it flew off.

“Go to your room!” he shouted as a depatarting line.

“So we’re totally not going to stay here right?” Dewey asked.

“Nope.” Webby replied

One plane crash later, and they were being chewed out by the scottish trillionaire. 

“You released four ancient evils, destroyed my bin, and almost gotten me killed!” he yelled.

“Ah, you kids are nothing but trouble. Curse me kilts have I missed trouble.” Scrooge said, a gleam in his eye.

“I guess I’ll have to keep a closer eye on you. Now who wants to journey to Atlantis!?” Scrooge asked, only to be met with cheers.

On the sub, Webby mainly hung out with Louie, as he wasn’t desperate to receive Scrooge’s attention like Dewey, nor blasting irritating shanties like her other cousin. So instead Louie lent her one of his earphones, and they listened to the music on his phone to pass the time. 

Of course, it didn’t take long for her lazy cousin to fall asleep, but Webby on the other hand couldn’t. She just had too many questions.

Webby had no idea who her parents were, she knew that Della was her biological aunt, but that was where her knowledge ended. She had no idea if Della was her aunt on her mother’s side or her father’s side. She didn’t know their names. Nothing. No pictures exist of them. Even libraries that depicted the Duck Family tree ended at her grandparents, and didn’t even mention them having kids, let alone who those kids were. 

Webby’s thoughts were interrupted by a sudden loud banging, similar to that of metal against metal. Then, several half fish half duck creatures burst into the sub. It was going to be quite the journey after that.

Several near death experiences later, they finally reached their destination. Atlantis. Dewey of course, ran headlong into the traps, while Scrooge attempted to keep him alive. 

Webby crossed the bridge with her cousin and Scrooge before it went up in flames. And so she went with them into the treasure room, only to find this Glomgold guy, who had apparently captured her aunt without Della realizing that she was in fact, a hostage. After Glomgold ran out with the giant ruby and the room started filling with water, her aunt started trying to plug the water.

“I knew it, I knew I couldn’t trust you with the kids!” Della said pointing an accusatory finger at her uncle. 

“Not the time, Della.” Scrooge said, but Della wasn’t done with him.

“Crazy old man. All you care about is the next adventure, the next treasure, not caring what happens to your family along the way. For God’s sake this is The Spear of Selene all over again.” Della said angrily.

“I was not responsible for The Spear of Selene!” Scrooge retorted, but was cut off by Webby who had just realized something. 

“Wait why is that crystal on the floor?” she asked

“What?” Scrooge replied confused but Dewey seemed to understand her meaning.

“Atlantis is upside down, meaning that the blue crystal was supposed to be surrounded by all this treasure. So…” Dewey said realization spread over his face

“That’s the real jewel of Atlantis!” Webby and Dewey said in unison. 

“I saw it light up when the trap was sprung. I bet my bottom dollar its the power source that runs the city.” Scrooge said swimming over to the chest her and Dewey were floating on.

She turned to her aunt who was still desperately trying to block the incoming water. 

“Aunt Della you have to let the room flood so we can reach the ceiling.” Webby called out.

“What am I supposed to do? Let go? Trust you?” Della said

“Well yeah. That’s all you can do. This is a surprisingly insightful death trap.” Dewey piped up, but Della still didn’t seem convinced.

“Aunt Della, I know its a risk, but it’s a risk you have to let us take.” Webby reasoned

Her aunt didn’t answer but smiled, and swam over to the chest. Riding it to the top of the room where they pulled the blue crystal from its position. Causing the vents to reverse, pulling all the water from the room, spinning the four around until finally resting them on the heaps of gold coins. 

“We need to get out of here.” Della said, voicing what the others were thinking.

They ran out of the now unsealed doors, to find Huey, and Louie taking turns hitting a wolf in the face, as Launchpad dealt with the other two mercenaries. 

It was then that an explosion shook the temple, rattling everyone down to the bone. Dust began to come down around them as they ran back to the sub, and rushed in. 

“Ms. Duck” a threatening female voice rang out.

“Oh not these jokers again.” she heard Louie murmur

“Could we maybe bum a ride with you?” the assassin asked timidly, and Della rolled her eyes, but still motioned her head for the three to follow her onto the sub.

“Launchpad, take us out of here.” Scrooge commanded, and they sped off just as the temple collapsed behind them. 

It took a few hours, but they eventually reached the surface, and stopped on the Duckburg docks. Where Glomgold was declaring himself the richest duck in the world. But after Glomgold was dragged away by a giant squid. Webby heard a ringing coming from behind her.

She turned, and saw it was her Aunt Della who was talking into her phone, and she did not seem happy with whoever was on the other end. Finally hanging up the phone with a huff, and storming back over to her family. 

“Well kids, I may or may not have just lost my job, and I may or may not not have enough money to afford rent, soooo, yeah.” Della said awkwardly. She had never liked telling the kids whenever something was going wrong, but she knew she needed to be honest with them. 

“Well, I may or may not have a few dozen spare bedrooms.” Scrooge said, smiling hopefully.

Later that day, they were clearing the more hazardous items from the garage, Huey, Dewey, and Louie were all hanging onto every word of a story Scrooge was telling. 

Webby however, went back to the painting she had spotted earlier, and smiled at the sight of her aunt, and great-uncle adventuring together. So she reached up, and put back the corner that had been torn, and saw something she had never expected. Her eyes going wide.

“Dad?”


	3. Whatever Happened To Donald Duck?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donald has one goal, survive. And he intends to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is like my favorite chapter so far, it isa bit short, but bear with me here, as I'm trying to spread out Donald's story a little more.

\---------------------------------------------------10 Years Ago------------------------------------------------

Donald followed his sister’s commands precisely. He was there! He could see the exit out of the storm. The stars and moon glowing brightly. 

He never saw the bolt of lightning coming. One moment, he was flying straight toward his freedom, the next, a bright flash of white consumed his vision, and he heard the hissing of pipes bursting. Then, an incredible amount of pain exploded from his eye, and Donald Duck lost consciousness. Spinning toward a rock that would become his prison.

He woke with a start, his body still pumped full of adrenaline, and in terrible, terrible pain. 

He looked around to take in his surroundings when he realized something.

His right eye! He couldn’t see out of his right eye! His hands flew up to his face, but found them blocked by his helmet. That’s when he saw the massive leak in his head gear.

“Oh, phooey!” he exclaimed, and looked around for anything that might help him. He saw it, Oxy-Chew. Gyro’s solution to surviving in space. Donald reached out his arm but the distance was just a bit too far from him to reach. So he tried to drag himself across the terrain, when he realized he had another problem. 

His left leg was trapped under a massive piece of wreckage, and he couldn’t feel it. Which was not exactly encouraging.

Alright, think Donald think, prioritize. Make a plan. Execute the plan. 

First step, his leg. He had to get to the Oxy-Chew, he wasn’t getting his leg free anytime soon, and even if he did, Donald knew that this long under pressure would just cause a build up of chemicals that would poison the rest of his body. 

He knew what he had to do, and going off of how much oxygen was leaking, he didn’t have much time to do it. So he grabbed a sharp piece of metal, and braced himself. This wasn’t going to be pretty. 

Now free, and with one less appendage, Donald dragged himself over to the box of Oxy-Chew and threw off the cracked helmet. He dumped the gum into his mouth, and was grateful that Gyro shared his affinity toward black liquorice. 

But, he needed to take care of his leg next while he was free. The amount of blood coming out of the wound was alarming. So he stripped off the space suit and tore the sleeves off the uniform that resided beneath. He fashioned one into a tourniquet and the other into a bandage. It slowed the blood loss tremendously, and until he could gather more materials, it would have to do.

His next focus was on his eye, since it was giving him the most pain, so he reached up to touch his eye, and found only burned flesh there. Donald gasped, and looked around for a reflective piece of metal, and once finding it brought it close so he could see what happened. 

It truly was a gruesome sight, the eye itself was opaque and possessed none of the color that the other did, and the feathers around it were burned, and the skin was black, the burn forming a jagged diagonal line across his face, crossing over his eye. 

Donald ripped off a strip of black cloth off his uniform and tied it around his face. He had addressed most of his injuries, although he was sure he had at least a few cracked ribs. 

But in any case, he had to become mobile once again, and get off of this rock, his family needed him. So he dragged himself towards a piece of the wreckage, and got to work. 

It didn’t take long for Donald to construct a prosthetic for himself, but his missing leg was only the beginning of his problems.

There was the moon mite. At first Donald would only see it occasionally and it would keep its distance, but it got bolder. Donald didn’t know what it wanted, but he did know one thing. Nothing would stop him from getting home. Nothing.

So, when the six eyed beast started to feast on his only way home, Donald didn’t hesitate. He got the blaster that Gyro put on the ship, and shot the creature directly between its eyes. It fell to the ground, dead. And when a smaller version of it emerged from the ground, its offspring most likely, Donald didn’t even think twice when he shot it dead. He couldn’t take chances, not when he had a family to get back to.

It should have been easy to get off that rock after that, but Donald wasn’t the unluckiest duck in the world for nothing. Any signal he tried to make went seemingly unseen, as any overhead ships passed over him completely. 

It wasn’t long though, before he stopped seeing other spacecraft entirely. So, he got to work. He dug around the wreckage until he found it. The instruction manual.

It took a long time to repair the ship. Of course, Donald didn’t exactly have an accurate way to keep track of the days, so he resorted to a simple system. He worked until his body reached its limit, and forced him to stop. Which ended up being far more frequent that he would have liked.

During this time, his thoughts often turned to his family. Della’s kids would have hatched by now. He just hoped that Della didn’t enact her plan to name them Jet, Turbo, and Rebel. His sister insisted they were names, despite his adamant assurance that they were in fact, just random words. 

Whatever the case, he was sure his uncle was having quite the time having ducklings in the manor. He smiled at the thought, three little pairs of feet running up and down the halls…

A sharp burst of pain interrupted his thoughts. His hand holding the blowtorch slipped, and his fingers were burned in the process. He had to stop speculating and get back to work, so he reluctantly pushed the fantasies out of his mind and focused on the sheet metal in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it got a little graphic there. I tried to imply as much as I could, but I know some of it was a little gruesome.


	5. Mysteries At The Archives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webby and Dewey begin to unravel their family's past.

The Money Bin glistened in the morning light, the stories really didn’t do it justice. It stood as a memento to the wealth and power of Scrooge McDuck, and home to the answers to many of his mysteries. At least that’s what Aunt Della thought.

Webby had been trying to glean information off of her Aunt, but since Webby didn’t want to question her directly, it proved nigh impossible. But, Webby’s efforts were not completely in vain, as she learned of the existence of the McDuck Family Archives, and today was the day she was going to enter them.

She managed to get a ride there with her great-uncle and Louie, who was apparently doing some shadowing thing at Scrooge’s meeting. She had also brought Dewey along with her, as he was the only one of her cousins that she had told about her search for her parents. 

Once at the bin, they gave Scrooge the slip easily, the only trick now was to find the archives. While wandering the halls of the bin, Dewey struck up a conversation.

“So, what do we have to go off of again?” 

“I told you, I went through all of your mom’s belongings, and the only thing I was able to find was this.” she said, once again holding up a photo depicting her Aunt Della shoving the mystery duck’s bill into a cake. 

“Besides this we have absolutely nothing, no name, we don’t know how he relates to us. I don’t even know if he is my father, but…” she trailed off, this photo could very well just be another dead end in the search for her parents. 

“But we have to find out.” Dewey finished for her “Come on, there has gotta be somebody here who knows where these archives are.” he said.

Webby and Dewey continued to walk the halls, until they came across a janitor. 

“Excuse me Mr. Janitor, sir?” Dewey asked, unafraid to approach the dog.

The aforementioned dog took off the large headphones he wore, and turned to look at the two. 

“What did you need, dude?” the dog asked in what could only be described as a chill voice.

“Umm, yeah, we were wondering where we could find the McDuck Archives?” Webby asked tentatively.

“Oh sure, you’ll want to go two floors down that stairwell, then it’s the first door on the left, can’t miss it.” the dog responded helpfully, and not missing a beat Dewey and her rushed to the stairs. 

They took the steps two at a time, and ended up right in front of two tall, imposing wooden doors. 

Webby rose her hand and knocked lightly against the wood. The doors opened a crack and the eye of a woman was seen.

“You, who are you? The archives are only accessible to family members of Mr. McDuck.” she said beginning to close the door.

“Wait, you mean like us? I’m Webby Duck, and this is Dewey Duck.” she introduced hoping that the librarian would admit her.

However, the librarian still closed the door. Only for it to open a moment later, golden light radiated from within as wondrous music seemed to fill the air. 

“Welcome heirs of Clan McDuck, to the archives!” the librarian exclaimed

“What are some of these books?” Dewey asked as he had immediately went to scan the shelves.

“I mean look at this ‘Scrooge’s Favorite Smells Vol. 12’ why would you have twelve volumes of that? I mean jeez, ego much?” Dewey said snarkily 

“Focus Dewey.” Webby scolded. She turned towards the librarian.

“We want to know more about this man.” Webby said, pointing to the picture of the duck with the cake in his face.

“Ah, the daughter wishes to learn of her past. But is she strong enough to face the challenges that stand in the way?” The librarian said ominously.

“Umm, yes?” Webby replied

“WRONG!” the librarian shouted.

“To find the knowledge you seek, you must complete the trials.” the librarian said ominously, with dramatic music playing.

“See right there, with the music again. Do you just have a guy in the rafters playing whatever situational music you need?” 

The librarian ignored his question, instead walking right past the two and towards a massive filing cabinet.

“The mystery begins here. You must decipher the code.” The librarian said before seemingly disappearing.

“So it’s a card catalogue.” Webby said, pointing out the obvious.

“Yup.” Dewey responded. 

“What do we do? We don’t have a name on this guy, so how are we supposed to find him in a catalogue?” Webby asked.

“Well, we think he’s my uncle right? So maybe we start with his closest relative.” Dewey suggested, already climbing up to the ‘D’ drawer, and pulling a card from it.

“Here we are. Della Duck.” he said, showing her the code that was there.

They found the shelf relatively easily, and found several books under the name. Most of the titles were maps, or guides to certain areas. 

“Was mom a geographer or something?” Dewey asked.

“I don’t know. If that painting was anything to go by, then both of them were adventures along with Scrooge.” Webby said, they still were no closer to figuring out this mystery. 

Then out of nowhere the librarian appeared, swinging a curved sword right at their necks. They ducked and the sword embedded itself in the bookshelf, they ran down the hall.

“Are you nuts!” Webby exclaimed.

In response the librarian only charged at them with the sword again. 

“She’s a librarian, use the books against her!” Dewey suggested, grabbing an armful off the shelf. 

They threw the books as hard as they could, but the librarian was too fast as she grabbed the books out of the air, and put them back in place. 

They ran away, still terrified, and clinging to a book apiece. But suddenly, they were seized by the back of their shirt collars and lifted into the air.

But they were saved by a giant robot bursting through the wall, seemingly in pursuit of Louie for some reason.

Not missing their opportunity, however, the two weaseled out of her grip and replaced it with the books they were holding. They ran down between another row of bookshelves, only to find themselves at a dead end.

“What are you doing! I just want to know who my Dad is!” Webby yelled at the librarian, who was approaching them, sword drawn. 

But instead of attacking them, the librarian simply tossed her the book she was holding before, saying.

“The answer to that has been in your hands for longer than you know.”

Webby and Dewey looked at the cover, it read in a cursive font.

The Life and Times of Donald Duck

“There’s an entire book dedicated to him?” Webby said while opening it, only to see that is was in fact, blank. Except for one page, that held a different catalogue code.

They looked up and saw that the librarian was once again gone. So they jogged over to where the code led them, only to see that it was just another dead end.

“Seriously!” Dewey exclaimed.

“Wait a second, these books they’re all out of order. This psycho librarian is many things, but unorganized does not seem to be one of them.” Webby said, putting then books in order forming one last slot. 

She inserted the book and the shelf glowed blue. A line of the light shined and led right to the wall, where a small slot opened.

It was a handprint scanner, or at least that’s what Webby thought when she lined up her hand with it. 

Only to be pricked by an unexpected needle.

“OW! What is wrong with this library!” Webby exclaimed as an electronic voice said.

“McDuck DNA identified.”

The wall slid open revealing a spacious room, there was a mural of the constellations on the ceiling, and cases filled with items and artifacts.

But dominating the room was a portrait of Donald Duck, he stood on an old galleon heroically, sword strapped to his side, dressed in a black and white sailor’s uniform.

In the cases there sat many strange items, a blue and gold amulet, several gold coins, and other such artifacts, along with the sword depicted in the painting hanging on the wall.

But what caught Webby’s attention specifically was two framed pieces of paper that hung on the wall.

The first read.

Scrooge,

I’ve taken the Spear of Selene, I’m sorry.

-Della

And the second

Uncle Scrooge, 

I know about the Spear. How could you? I’ve gone to go try and talk some sense into Della. Watch the kids!

-Donald

“What do you think it means?” Dewey asked, seeing the notes.

“I don’t know. But until we find out, we can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” Webby said

Dewey nodded, but voiced his curiosity.

“What is The Spear of Selene anyway?”


	6. Donald's Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donald has repaired the Spear, but will it be enough to get him home?

It took him months, maybe even years, but Donald did it. He finally fixed that accursed ship. The Spear stood in front of him, complete once more. Sure, Donald had to cut a few corners where he lacked materials, but he did it. 

He was this close, so close to finally coming home, finally seeing his kid. Until he found out that he wasn’t.

Donald had kept his anger down until that moment. But the moment that he found out that the engine ran on gold, that he was still stuck on the same fucking dustball. He turned and punched the wall with as much force as he could muster. It dented the steel, and split his knuckles, he was tempted, oh so tempted to let it all out. All the rage and frustrations, he’d been bottling inside go. 

But, he forced it down, he still couldn’t afford to destroy anything in his blind fury. So he just took his fist out of its lodging in the wall, blood running down his arm, staining his feathers red. And thought of a plan.

If there was gold on this rock, Donald was going to find it. He first tried to construct a metal detector. Donald figured that once it was out of range of the ship, then it would direct him to any minerals, and gold that resided there. 

It didn’t work. As soon as he got a few thousand yards from the ship, the metal detector first didn’t pick up anything. But then it went absolutely haywire, spitting out readings that suggested that almost the entire moon was made of metal. 

So next he did something he really didn’t want to do. He left the ship to explore the rest of the moon. Donald didn’t want to leave his transport unprotected, but he was running out of options. Besides, not since the moon mite attack had anything disturbed the area. 

So holstering his blaster, and a fresh piece of Oxy-Chew in his mouth, Donald set off. He must have walked for days, months, years. Only taking breaks when his legs could take him no farther. Only sleeping when his eye closed against his will. He traversed the moon’s rocky terrain.

One day, he found a massive shadowy line, the border between the light side of the moon, and the dark. Donald stepped over the line without hesitation, and continuing his journey. 

However, Donald did not focus only on putting one foot in front of the other. His traveling had finally given him time to think, and think he did.

He thought of his family. How his sister and his uncle struggled into parenting but how they pulled through, and became the best parents any child could ask for. How Della was fun, yet responsible, how Scrooge was strict but fair, and maybe even his cousins reunited in order to raise her kids.

He thought of his sister’s children. How old he thought they were. How they bickered, but still had one another’s backs, even in the toughest situations. How they were fun-loving like his sister, but adventurous like their great-uncle. How they were troublemakers, but still knew when to hold back. How they loved their family.

But, most of all he thought of his kid. Unlike Della’s kids, where he could speculate and make up stories about them to pass the time, he found himself only asking questions when it came to his own child. Were they his son or his daughter? What was their favorite color? He was sure that at this point they had been on their first adventure. What was it? How did they feel about it? Did they have a taste for it like their aunt? Perhaps their preferences went more toward riches, like their great-uncle. Or maybe they didn’t like all the excitement and wanted to lead a normal life like Donald did when he was younger. Who was their best friend?

Through all of these questions he knew one thing. That his family had almost certainly forgotten about him. 

Of course they would have. Della and Scrooge always preferred each other over him, he was the weak link in their adventuring crew, Gladstone was a curse upon his life, Fethry was so absent-minded he probably has actually forgotten Donald existed, and of course, the kids never knew him in the first place. 

Donald took solace in this. The last thing he would want for anyone, especially his family, was to be burdened by grief. He knew that they must have moved on from his disappearance by now, and he couldn’t be happier. He was content only to be remembered as a faint, fond memory.

And it seemed that would be his fate. Finding gold on the moon was most likely impossible, and Donald knew that he was going to die on that rock. Despite this, Donald kept walking, holding onto the faintest hope that for once in his life, he would be lucky.


	7. Four Leaf Clover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize to any Gladstone Gander fans (I don't know if there are any but you know, just in case)

The Cloudslayer is not what it used to be. At least that’s what Della thought, sure they changed the name of her plane, and that’s fine. But when was the last time they had it in the shop for repairs? 

Della asks this because no plane should be making the type of noise that the Sunchaser was at the moment. 

They were flying to the city of Macaw in order to make a pit stop at some casino that Gladstone was staying at.

He had called asking for their help specifically, and despite Della’s protests that anything would be a better use of their time, they went anyway.

It wasn’t that Della hated her cousin, she liked him well enough, it was just that Gladstone didn’t have problems.

As long as she knew him, Gladstone was handed everything in life. Which was fine enough for him, and she knew she should be happy that at least one of her family members had it easy. But, there was an air of superiority that he had that drove her nuts. Even as a child, Gladstone thought that he was better than everyone else, including her, Fethry, Gus, and Scrooge. He was a complete show off, always displaying with pride whatever new commodity his luck had won him. The only one of their family that he ever seemed to respect was Donald, seemingly admiring the fact that he managed to get by with willpower alone. However, when Donald disappeared, so did Gladstone, saying that he was going to this city, and it seemed he hadn’t left since.

“So what is Uncle Gladstone like?” Huey asked out of nowhere

“Oh, well your uncle is umm, well how to say…” Della said, stumbling on her own words. Huey’s question threw her off guard, and she didn’t know the best way to answer, without making Gladstone sound like one of the worst people alive.

“He’s an absolute layabout, never worked a day in his life.” Scrooge said, sharing his less than stellar opinion of Gladstone.

Della didn’t like how she saw Louie perk up a bit at that.

“If he’s that lazy, how can he afford to live in a city like this?” Dewey asked

“He’s also really, really lucky, like unnaturally lucky.” Della contributed

“That’s an understatement, Gladstone Gander has been handed life on a silver platter, and is possibly one of the most shallow people I know.” Scrooge complained

“He’s not that bad Scrooge.” Della said, trying to defend her cousin a bit.

Although is she was to be honest, Della was not looking forward to this visit either.

“Did Uncle Gladstone grow up with you guys, or…” Webby asked

“Well we didn’t grow up in the same house, but we saw him a lot growing up, until he cut off contact about ten years ago.” Della responded easily

At this she saw her nieces eyes shine in a way that she hadn’t seen before. But before she could question why her niece would ask, the plane shook again and Della couldn’t bear it, what was that pilot doing? She hadn’t flown in years, but even she could land a plane better than that. Still they made it to the ground safely enough, and disembarked the plane.

“So is that it?” Dewey asked looking up at the over the top, flashy casino in front of him

“That’s it.” Scrooge confirmed “Now, if we hurry, we can make it to the Temple of the Golden Cricket with plenty of time to spare.” 

They walked into the lobby to unsurprisingly see that Gladstone had in fact, not waited here for their arrival. So instead they had to check what room he was in and go there themselves.

They approached the outside of the door, and heard what seemed to be Gladstone being beaten. She looked over at Scrooge, who brandished his cane, and she likewise ushered the kids back, and assumed a battle stance of her own. They bust into the room fists and cane at the ready to find…

Gladstone with a massage therapist. 

“Oh hey fam! Come on in, help yourself to everything.” Gladstone greeted, as the massage specialist left.

“Hey Gladstone.” Della groaned, this was not going to be fun.

“Whoah, is this all yours Uncle Gladstone?” Louie asked, looking at all of the expensive items in the penthouse.

“That’s right greener pastures, I won all of this. Ooh, wait look at this,” Gladstone requested, jumping into a hot tub full of casino chips. “Guess who I am? ‘Ah haggis and mash. Bless me bagpipes.’” he said in a phony Scottish accent. 

“Coolest uncle ever!” Louie exclaimed jumping into the chips as well.

Typical Gladstone, he didn’t need their help, he just wanted to show off. Della knew exactly how this evening would go down, Gladstone would probably try to show how much better than them he was, and then they would leave. And if Della was super unlucky, Louie would gain a terrible role model along the way. 

“Come on kids, lets go.” Della said, not before leveling a glare at Gladstone.

“Aye, we need to get to that cricket.” Scrooge said, also staring him down

At that Gladstone jumped up and put himself between them and the door.

“No don’t leave yet, I haven’t gotten the chance to show you around.” Gladstone pleaded “I haven’t even gotten to know my nephews and niece.”

Surprisingly it was Webby who voiced support.

“He has a point, I mean, we haven’t even talked to him yet. Not really.”

“Yeah, we should at least get to know him.” Louie chimed in giving Della his best pleading look.

“Ugh fine,” Della relented

“Well you can stay if you want, but me, Huey and Dewey, are going to head back to the plane.” Scrooge said turning and walking away.

“Oh no you don’t,” Della seized him by the back of his collar “if this is supposed to be a family gathering, then we need the whole family.” 

Scrooge grumbled but seemingly decided not to argue with his niece.

“Alright, then Gladstone, lead the way.” Della said 

“Okay, let's get this show on the road.” Gladstone said leading them out and down the elevator. 

“First things first, I think we should hit up the game floor, how about you Scrooge. You in?” 

“Spend my time going after adrenaline rushes you mean, no thank you. I’ve got much better things to be doing.” At that Scrooge shot Della a look.

“Yeah, if you don’t need help, then what are we doing here?” Della asked. It was strange that he would out of the blue ask for help, and then seem to only want to get Scrooge into the casino games.

“Well what kind of uncle would I be if I didn’t insist that my family enjoy all the amenities this place has to offer. There’s something for everybody here, I’m sure I’ll find something that you’ll enjoy. Like how about this?” Gladstone asked pointing to a fountain that resided in the middle of the room. “It’s a water show, the largest in the Eastern Hemisphere, Aquarion, Waters of Aquariune.” 

“Biggest waste of water you mean!” Huey exclaimed “I mean, how many millions of gallons of water does this go through a day…” he trailed off, seemingly entranced by the water.

“Water, dancing, a sense of calm washing over me.” Huey said, finding his way to a seat.

“Oh come now, we do not have time for this.” Scrooge complained 

“Yeah, let’s not split up, I don’t like how big this place is.” Della said, beckoning for her son to follow them.

“Oh come on, he’ll be fine by himself for a show or two. Now there has got to be something in this casino for you guys to do. Oh, I know, how about those slot machines, eh Uncle Scrooge?” Gladstone tried to persuade him.

“No, absolutely not.” Scrooge refused

“Alright, how about this? The Buffet of Many Lands, there's a lot of great food there, you gotta try it.”

“Is that a chocolate fountain!?” Webby asked, ever the sugar junkie.

“That’s right, you can dip just about anything into it.” Gladstone said 

“Anything?!” Webby asked, eyes going wide

“Anything.” he confirmed

At that she rushed over to the fountain and dunked her head into it.

"Say Della what do say the rest of us go over to the games, huh?” Gladstone suggested “Scrooge?”

“No absolutely not, I am not spending money on cheap thrills.” Scrooge said with a huff

“Yeah this place is boring.” Dewey complained and Gladstone smiled, a sudden idea coming to him.

“Y’know I can’t help but agree with ya, but you know what is exciting?” Gladstone asked

“What?” Dewey asked, curiosity peaked

“Tigers. Specifically the Blue Jade Tiger.” Gladstone said leading them over to a thin toad who stood behind two blue, almost glowing tigers.

“Awesome!” Dewey exclaimed, immediately jumping onto one.

“What? Gladstone you cannot just give a tiger to a child!” Della shouted

“Oh, come now Della they’re trained. Besides it seems like he already named it.” Gladstone said

“You shall be Dewey Jr.!” Dewey proclaimed as Gladstone was doing his best to persuade Della. “Oh by the way, I already named him, and I’m already super emotionally attached.” Dewey said, flashing his great uncle a large smile.

“Fine, but I am not changing its litter.” Scrooge relented

“How about you green bean? Anything in particular you want to do while you’re here, if you want there are plenty of games open, and the chips are on me.” Gladstone said, trying to get the youngest nephew hooked on something as well.

“Hold on a second Gladstone, this has gone far enough. I’m getting the rest of the kids and we’re leaving.” she turned to Scrooge “I’ll get Webby and Dewey, you get Huey.”

He nodded and she made her way to the buffet where she led Webby off of one of the tables. Then she went back over to where Dewey was riding on the back of Dewey Jr. and got him to follow her, although the tiger seemed unwilling to part with its new owner as it followed her as she walked back to where Scrooge had Huey.

“Come on kids let’s blow this popsicle stand.” Della said, walking toward the exit

“Wait no, you can’t leave yet, we have so much left to do!” Gladstone yelled panicked

“Sorry Gander, we’re going.” Scrooge retorted, as Gladstone tried to get between them and the door, only to be stopped by an ethereal chain that appeared out of nowhere.

“Did I forget to mention that I’m a prisoner here?” Gladstone asked

“What? To who?” Della asked, confusion written all over her face 

“ME.” a threatening voice came out of nowhere, as their surroundings started to turn into cards, people, machines, even the walls turned to giant cards. Leaving only the ground they were standing on, and a massive green toad who held the deck of cards. 

“I am Toad Liu Hai, the spirit of chance and fortune, and all of you are in my house now.”

“What do you want with our uncle?” Webby asked, as confused as the rest of the family. 

“Liu Hai feeds off luck, specifically as of the last decade, my luck.” Gladstone answered.

“Mr. Gander here promised me that he would trap all of you, in exchange for his own life. Especially the luck of the richest duck in the world. But it appears that he has failed and I must take matters into my own hands. That being said…”  
Liu Hai said, as shackles suddenly appeared on all of their ankles. “You are all my prisoners now.”

“Luck had nothing to do with my fortune Liu Hai and I'll prove it. I assume you enjoy wagers? I have one for you.” Scrooge said confidently.

“Oh really, what would that be?” Liu Hai asked, a sinister smile painted on his face

“Winner takes all! Me vs you. If I win, everyone goes free, if I lose, we stay, permanently. Do we have a deal?” Scrooge asked.

“I can’t resist such a challenge. Very well McDuck, I accept. Behold!” Liu Hai gestured to a complicated series of cards, leading to a finish line. “First to the end wins.”

“Alright Toad, let’s do this.” Scrooge said rolling up his sleeves

“Oh not you. My house, my rules. Since he still belongs to me, Gladstone will be my champion. You get, hmm, her.” he said pointing out Della.

“What! I don’t even get to be part of the blasted challenge!” Scrooge exclaimed

The floor under Della started to move downwards, and it floated to the start line, with Gladstone next to her.

Della was mad, furious in a way that she hadn’t been in a long time. She turned to her cousin, venom in her voice.

“We came here to help you, and you planned to sacrifice all of us in exchange for your own pathetic existence?” Della asked menacingly.

“Yeah that pretty much sums it up. I’m sorry about this Della, but I don’t intend to be trapped here any longer, even if I have to doom all of you to do it.” Gladstone said nonchalantly 

“3, 2, 1, Go!” Liu Hai shouted, but neither parties moved

Della felt the fury flow through her blood. She had grown up with this lucky bastard, but apparently that meant nothing to him. She couldn’t win against him, she knew that much no one could beat that amount of raw luck. Her fists clenched in determination, the bones popping, she wouldn’t let him imprison her, or her family, and unfortunately for her cousin, there was something that Della had that Gladstone sorely lacked. 

Anger.

“I’m trying to give you a head start here, aren’t you going to go?” Gladstone asked, In response Della turned, and decked him.

He fell to the ground, blood starting to flow out of his beak, but Della wasn’t done with him yet. She picked him up by the front of his suit, and hit him over and over again.

“You greedy,” (PUNCH)

“Lucky,” (PUNCH)

“Selfish,” (PUNCH)

“Piece of shit,” (PUNCH)

“Bastard.” (PUNCH)

Gladstone was limp, face covered in blood, bruises already forming on his face. Della dropped him onto the ground, and dragged him by his foot. She walked through the course dragging the unconscious bird behind her. 

His luck seemed to act as a protective aura, as all streams of lava missed her, and all other obstacles seemed to pose no threat.

It didn’t take her long to reach the foot of a massive game machine, and she ditched her cousin and began to climb, avoiding the giant food decorations that fell right on her.

She reached the finish line, walking calmly across it. 

Liu Hai raised the two up to the level of the others with his floating cards, seeming shocked more than anything else.

“Well, that is certainly an interesting way to win a race.” Liu Hai said

“Liu Hai, you know the deal. We all go free.” Scrooge said.

“Yes. Well at least I still have the luckiest gander on this earth.” he said, as the chain re-materialized on Gladstone’s neck, just as he regained consciousness. 

“Really? Because I said everyone goes free, I never said that didn’t mean Gladstone, so technically he goes too.” Scrooge said smugly.

At this Liu Hai’s eyes went wide with fury at the realization of the trick, and he practically growled.

“You’re pushing your luck Scrooge. Very well, everyone goes free, this time, but make no mistake, I will not forget this McDuck.” he threatened.

A moment later, they had materialized outside of the casino, and Gladstone once again fell down.

“Come on, we gotta get out of here before Liu Hai changes his mind!” Della said running towards the plane, the rest of the family in tow. 

Except for Webby, who approached the bleeding goose, one question on her mind.

“Uncle Gladstone?” 

He looked up from his position on his hands and knees.

“What happened to Donald Duck?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of this was inspired by a commenter on the last chapter, so keep in mind. If you have an idea, just suggest it, as long as you don't mind me using it, there's a high probability it'll end up in the story. This goes for chapters I've already written as well.


	8. Sparks of War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope ya'll enjoy this, as it was really fun to write.

For the first time Donald was lucky. He had found a rock that had incredibly strange placement, as all the land around it was flat. But Donald couldn’t care less, because it seemed to be inlaid with gold. 

He unholstered his gun, and set it to its lowest setting, intending to cut out the gold. However when he blasted it, the rock gave an electronic sound as sparks flew from it. And in front of him the terrain melted away, revealing what appeared to be a city.

It sparkled with gold, tons of it, and Donald was practically salivating at the sight of it. He usually wasn’t one to crave gold, but he knew what it represented. It was his way home. 

Unfortunately, taking down the hologram seemed to attract quite a fair bit of attention, as aliens gathered around him.

They were strange looking creatures, their skin was anywhere from teal to purple, their bodies seemed to be composed of some strange gel substance, and they were dressed from top to bottom in gold.

Donald holstered his gun. He didn’t want the natives to get the wrong impression. So he also raised his hands up in a ‘surrender’ move.

“I come in peace.” his voice was much more hoarse than normal, and it physically hurt him to speak. Yet when he did he was only met with silence until a lone voice rang out from the crowd.

“What did he say?” 

Donald was ready to repeat himself, until he saw the crowd parting for two specific aliens. They must be the leadership, or maybe the police, the military? Whoever they were, they obviously had power, and Donald would be better served talking to them than to anyone else. 

His suspicions on them being the military were confirmed when he heard them speak to one another, as they reached him.

“General, why do you think the Earthers have sent one of their own here?” The shorter, purple one asked.

“I’m not sure Lieutenant, but we need to find out.” the General responded

“Hello, my name is Donald Duck, I’m from Earth, and I need some of your gold to go home.” he rasped, hoping that they understood him, and that they would let him go home.

However, it did not seem like this would be the case, as the General pulled him up by the collar of his tattered uniform. They then dragged him through the crowd of people and to a solid gold building.

There, they threw him into a cell and left him there, but not before chaining him to the wall by his arms, and putting a clamp down on his beak, not allowing him to speak. Thankfully he could still chew, but only just, so his oxygen was not as plentiful as it needed to be. 

During his time there Donald drifted in and out of consciousness. All he could do was think how close he was once again to achieving his freedom, only for it to be snatched from him. A ditty he wrote years ago came to mind.  
Who gets stuck with all the bad luck? No one, but Donald Duck.

It must have been at least a week, but they finally came back for him. The general strolled into the room, flanked by his purple friend, and dismissed the guard on duty there.

“So, Donald Duck, eh?” the General asked, obviously not expecting an answer

“You know I really must thank you for the role you’ve played in my plan. But, of course you know nothing of anything. Here, follow me and I will explain.” the General said as the Lieutenant unchained him from the wall, and picked him up again. They carried him to a seemingly dead end hallway.

“What’s this General? This is a dead end.” She said, pointing out the obvious.

“Not quite Penumbra, this is what I’ve been wanting to show you for a long time, and I finally think you’re ready to see it.” the General said activating a device on the wall, allowing the wall to slide back, revealing a large room. 

“You see, my father always lived in fear of the Earth, even taking our people into hiding over it. But I, I refuse to live in fear like my father did. Instead I will make the Earth live in fear of us. So Donald Duck, I started to plan, I watched your planet for years, observing the threats to my invasion.” With that the General gestured to the large screens that adorned the walls, they started to show pictures of Glomgold, Magica, Della, his Uncle Scrooge, and even a picture of himself. 

“You see Donald, after all my planning, I only needed a reason for the rest of the Moonlanders to fight alongside me. Now that is where you came in, I convinced the rest of Tranquility that you were a spy, sent here to observe us before the Earth launched an all out attack.” He said, the maniacal grin growing ever wider.

“So as I said, I must thank you for your involvement. Especially bringing us a spacecraft, on which to model our own fleet after. You see, I was never able to construct one of my own, but now. Now I have everything I need. Which unfortunately for you means that I have no further use for you.” He said pulling his own blaster from his belt and aiming it at Donald’s forehead. 

Well this was it for Donald, he didn’t have the strength to fight anymore. He was almost relieved, his suffering would finally end. His only regret was that he never got to see his family, never got to see his own child. Still, he was powerless to stop his own inevitable demise.

“You know I do so look forward to getting to know the rest of your family Donald Duck. Especially your daughter.” The General said, his finger inching toward the trigger.

A daughter, Donald had a daughter. 

This tyrannical, insane alien wanted to hurt his daughter. 

With that realization woke an instinct that Donald did not know resided inside himself. He was angry, so, so angry, but it was channeled like it never was before. Channeled into tearing the alien in front of him to shreds to protect his family.

He gritted his teeth, and in a sudden rush of adrenaline, burst free of the Lieutenant’s grasp, and knocked the blaster out of the alien’s hand. Sending it flying down into the recess in the middle of the room. He threw his entire body into the alien, and fell down with him onto the large gold cannon that resided there.

Donald faced the alien, and closed his hands into fists. He was shaking with rage. No one threatened his family and got away with it. No one.

He felt the clamp, weakening, cracking and splintering, until it broke off with a sudden clang. Allowing Donald to roar in rage, and charge his foe, leading with his fists.

The General easily sidestepped Donald’s swings, and delivered one of his one. It was hard and brutal, and sent Donald flying. He looked around for anything that would give him the upper hand, and spotted the blaster down below. 

He stood defiantly, waiting for his opponent to come towards him. The General ran towards Donald, but when he got close Donald jumped off the edge of the cannon. He landed hard on his shoulder, hearing a crack, as he most likely fractured his shoulder. 

He slid across the floor and grabbed the blaster, and without hesitation or mercy shot the General between the eyes. 

He fell to the ground dead, and Donald heard a cry of anguish.

“General Lunaris!?” the purple alien, who had been observing thus far exclaimed.

Fast as lightning, Donald turned and shot her in the knee. It left her on the ground, incapacitated.

Donald ran from the room. He needed to find his belongings, fast. He ran throughout the building, and was able to find his gun without incident, holstering his gun, although keeping hold of the General’s weapon. The Spear’s manual however, wasn’t there and Donald didn’t have time to look for it. 

It was while trying to exit that Donald ran into trouble. Literally. 

He blindly ran into the barracks, and found himself in the presence of sleeping guards. It was too late to sneak out, and so Donald quickly found himself surrounded by half awake aliens. 

Donald did the only logical thing, as it was obviously far too late for peaceful negotiations. He shot the first alien who tried to rush him, and the rest fell not soon after. He pocketed one of their golden belt buckles and sprinted away. 

He found the exit to the building, and darted out onto the streets of the city. 

He ran as fast as he could, but there were some citizens who decided to try and stop him. They never stood a chance. 

Donald had to kill almost three dozen unarmed aliens, but he finally made it out of the city. He should have been in the clear, but there was a battalion of troops pursuing him, and they were actually armed. 

Bolts of energy flew by him as he ran in a zig-zag pattern, the bolts occasionally singing the feathers on his head or clothes if they got too close. 

He turned and fired two shots back at them, and two of twenty soldiers fell. Despite the amount of time it took to find the city from the rocket. It seemingly took no time at all to find his way back to it.

The red ship shined in the low light, and Donald caught sight of it just as he felt a sharp pain in his right side. One of the soldiers had managed to hit him, and Donald could feel and smell the burning flesh there. 

He rapidly fired again, and another one fell. He had to get out of there, so he ran to the engine, and threw in the golden belt buckle. The rocket was all ready to go, all he needed to do was launch it. 

But, he couldn’t afford to have the ship damaged by the soldiers, and so he turned to face the entire battalion when he reached the bottom of the ladder, and gunned the last seventeen down with startling accuracy.

He climbed the ladder quickly and strapped himself in. He was about to initiate the launch sequence, when a thought came to him. He might be able to return home now, but did he really think that the Lieutenant wouldn’t seek revenge? They had the manual, which means they have the means to build a fleet and invade Earth.  
He had just practically massacred their people, did he really think they would treat his people any differently?

The answer, of course, was no. Which left only one logical conclusion, he had to stop the invasion before it began, and there was only one way to do that. He had to stay on the moon. 

Until he recovered the instruction manual his entire planet was in danger, and Donald was going to save his planet, whatever the cost. 

On the other side of the moon, Penumbra stood over General Lunaris’s dead body. 

“You were right Lunaris, the Earthers wish to wage war with us, and we must be ready.” she said before catching sight of a soldier who stood in the doorway

“You there! Take this to the scientists, tell them to start construction immediately.”  
She said to a soldier, handing over the instruction manual.

“Yes General Penumbra.” the soldier saluted before scuttling away.

“If Donald Duck wants a war, I will give him a war.”


	9. The Treacherous Slopes of Mt. Neverrest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Della attempts to relive her glory days, while Scrooge obsesses over past failures.

“So that’s Neverrest, huh? Funny, I always thought it’d be taller.” Della said, the cold wind nipping at her exposed face, as they stood on a snow-covered ridge, only white expanses in front of them.

“World’s tallest mountain not enough for you?” Scrooge asked mockingly.

“Hey, I wanted to spend Christmas at home with my family. I got the family part, but this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind for the setting.” Della said, shivering a bit.

“Yeah, I’m kind’ve surprised you wanted to come along, Mom.” Dewey contributed

“Yeah well, it’s clear I can’t leave you guys alone. I mean I go and try and find a job for what, three days? And in that time you got captured by the Beagles twice, and what should have been a trip to the movies ended in you being trapped underground by rock people!” Della said, she was still annoyed at Mrs. Beakley for that last one. The only good thing to come of it seemed to be the fact that Webby had made a new friend. 

“Plus, Christmas is my favorite time of year! Snow, stockings, wreaths, trying to capture Santa Claus…”

“Yeah. Wait what?” Huey said,

“So long story short. You guys can’t ditch me that easily.” she said confidently. 

Della knew that Scrooge was good at what he did, but if her childhood indicated anything, it was that he wasn’t the best at keeping track of kids. So if she was going to let the kids adventure, she was going to go with them. That and if Della was honest with herself, she missed adventure terribly. She always was a more reckless spirit than her brother or even her uncle, and it had not translated well into parenthood for a while, but she was able to change for her kids. However to a certain level Della just wanted to go back to the good old days, less worries, less responsibilities, less of a sense of self-preservation. It was hard, should she be a good role model for her kids? Or could she just let loose for once and enjoy life?

She, for the first time in ten years, settled on the latter, it was Christmas after all, she could revert back to being her old self again, at least for a little while.

“-and then I can get my Cartography Badge!” Huey exclaimed, snapping her back to the present.

“I have a GPS, a radar surveillance system, and a compass.”

“Bah, you don’t need any of that, just your eyes, your wits, and these.” Scrooge said, holding out a theodolite tripod.

“It’s rusty with the wisdom of experience.” Huey said in awe, taking the instrument.

“And actual rust I’m sure. That’s the same theodolite I used when I got the cartography badge.” Della said.

“That’s right. It used to mine, then your mother’s, and now its yours, and once more it shall be used to chart the unknown.” Scrooge said dramatically.

“No one has ever seen the top of Neverrest, but I plan to be the first to step foot on the peak.” 

“And I’ll be the first to draw a picture of it!” Huey exclaimed.

“To think, a whole new land to uncover, untouched by man…” Scrooge said, only to reach the top of the ridge, where a town was visible.

“But touched by tourists apparently.” Della finished.

They walked down into the town that bustled with people, all there to relax in hot springs, stay in a resort, or buy what was sure to be over priced merchandise. 

“What’s all this? George Mallardy, 75 year celebration?” Webby asked, pointing to a poster that depicted a heroic mustachioed duck holding onto the silhouette of another by a rope. 

“Why, George Mallardy is only the most famous mountaineer of the 20th century. They say he was the one to get furthest up the mountain, but had to sacrafice himself to save a fellow incompetent climber, famously known as the ‘Neverrest Ninny.’” Della explained.

“Oh, that's a load of hogwash made up to sell t-shirts. That whole Neverrest Ninny nonsense is just a myth.” Scrooge rebuked. “Besides we are going to make it to the top of this mountain, unlike that quitter Mallardy.”

“All right, well if we are in town anyway, we should make sure we don’t need any more supplies. Spread out and meet back here in ten minutes.” Della quickly instructed

The kids saluted and went their separate ways, as did Launchpad, the less than stellar pilot.

Della also wandered amongst the shops, seeing if there was any memorabilia worth giving to one of the kids as a Christmas present. She laid her eyes on a sled, and had a perfect idea, smile spreading over her face. 

They could sled down Mt. Neverrest! 

It was just the thing that she would do if Donald was still here, and therefore the perfect way to recapture those old days.

“Man, they never have Dewey.” Dewey complained, looking through a rack of novelty name tags with Webby and Louie.

“Louie, Dewey, Webby, look what I got!” Della said holding out the sled for them to see. 

“Were we planning on sledding down the mountain?” Louie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“And, or die trying!” Della stated “Now come on we should get this trip started!” She said walking toward the rendezvous point, where Scrooge was waiting impatiently. But as she walked away she could hear a hushed conversation behind her.

“Aunt Della has fun? Like death defying fun?” Webby asked quietly.

“I dunno.” Dewey whispered back

“I didn’t think she did, but I don’t think Mom’s kidding about this sledding thing. So?” Louie added, shrugging.

So they didn’t think she had fun, did they? Well the old Della would have never backed down from such a challenge, whether it was intentional or not, so that’s what Della was going to do now. She was gonna show those kids just how much death defying fun she could be. 

“Alright true adventurers, Neverrest is going to throw everything she’s got at us…” Scrooge said, as soon as they all gathered by a ‘you are here’ sign.

“But it’ll all be worth it when we find the treasure of Mt. Neverrest.” Louie said.

“What? There is no treasure of Mt. Neverrest.” Scrooge said, confused

“Whelp I’m out.” Louie said, dropping his pick and rope.

“Oh come on Louie, it’ll be fun.” Della protested 

“Nope.” he said, already on his way to a hot chocolate stand.

She followed him and pulled him closer to her by his shoulder. Taking a knee she whispered into his ear.

“Besides, do you know how much money you could make, being part of the first group to climb Neverrest. We’re talking speeches, book deals, maybe even a movie. After all, look how much merchandise the guy who failed has.” Della persuaded. 

“Alright let’s do this.” Louie said once more joining the rest of the group

Della knew that using Louie’s love of money to get him to agree was a little low, but she wanted to spend Christmas with the family she had left, and she wasn’t completely above manipulation as a tactic, if it brought her family together.

After a short walk, with Launchpad talking about some ‘ice fever’ thing, they reached a sign.

“Huh. Point of no return, this way to certain death. This way to cocoa.” Dewey read, glancing back at Webby 

“Certain death!” they cry out in unison, but quickly look at her sheepishly, expecting her to scold them.

“That’s the spirit.” Della said encouragingly, being the first to walk in the direction of ‘certain death.’ She would show those kids who the real Della Duck was.

“Launchpad, hand me my climbing spats, will you? Launchpad?” Scrooge asked, but Launchpad was gone, and faint screaming was heard in the distance, coming from the town.

“Probably cozying up with hot cocoa. Anyone else want to chicken out?” Scrooge demanded. They all shook their heads except for Louie, who was subsequently on the receiving end of several odd looks.

“Well I mean are we sure this is a good idea? I mean this Mallardy guy sounds like he was the real deal, but he still died. Are we sure we won’t end up the same way?” Louie asked

“Of course I’m sure.” Scrooge snapped, before his expression softened “Listen, I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” the rock under Dewey’s foot cracked and gave way, almost sending him off the edge. Scrooge’s arm quickly shot out and grabbed him, pulling him toward the rest of the group as the edge of the cliff fell into the valley below.

“From now on, nothing bad from now on.”

“Now are we ready to press on?” Scrooge asked, this time getting nod from everyone. “Good, last thing we need on this trip is a bunch of Neverrest Ninnies.” Scrooge mumbled, with only one member of the family hearing him.

“I thought you said that the Neverrest Ninny was a myth.” Huey piped up.

“Just because it’s a myth doesn’t mean it’s not real.” Scrooge said as if explaining something incredibly obvious.

“That is the literal definition of a myth, Scrooge.” Della said

“The point is, we have to have our wits and our courage about us.” Scrooge said

Not long after, they reached a snow-covered rock

“Hmm, I’ll call that Bunny Rock, after Murder Ridge, but before the Chasm of Infinite Despair.” Huey said, the snow sliding off the rock, revealing a satanic looking face. “Yeah, I’m still going to call it bunny rock.” Huey said jotting it down on a souvenir map of all things.

“Huey, honey, not to question your methods, but why are you using a souvenir map in order to make a real map?” Della asked, there was no way that her meticulous Huey would settle for correcting a clearly inaccurate map, instead of just drawing his own.

“Launchpad had all my surveying tools, including my blank paper.” Huey explained, making another note on his map.

“Ah, I see.” She really didn’t, she knew that her son had his JWG under his hat, and that it had blank pages in it that he could use, but like she said she wasn’t going to question it. Anymore that is.

Not two hours later, they reached a wall of sheer ice.

“Curse me kilts,” Scrooge remarked softly

“End of the line Uncle Scrooge?” Huey asked sadly.

“Oh no, we can’t climb up the incredibly dangerous mountain anymore, woe is us.” Louie said sarcastically. “I guess we’ll just have to head back to the warm, safe resort where we won’t die.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Della stepped forward “Scrooge, give me your pick.” She grabbed the pickaxes, and now dual wielding them, stepped up to the sheer face of the cliff.

She swung and embedded the first pick into the rock, and then the other. Again and again, pulling herself up the mountain, rope tied to her waist. It took a great deal of effort, but she made it to the top, securing the rope so that her uncle and kids could climb up next. 

“Wow, that was a rush. We must have gained some serious altitude with that climb, I-” Huey said, getting on top of the cliff, only to see the same frightening stone as before.

“What?! That doesn’t make sense.” Huey said, “we can’t have gotten turned around without us noticing, right?” 

“Oh, I’m sure it’s a completely different demon-faced rock.” Della said, trying to reassure her son, but Della knew there was no way that was a different rock. Yet that was still the least of their problems as a freak snowstorm seemed to conjure itself in the sky, the flakes falling quickly, and heavily. Soon they were surrounded by an impenetrable veil of white.

“This looks like a blizzard, the smartest thing to do is-” Huey began

“Set up camp. Right Scrooge?” Della asked, interrupting her son, knowing full well that Huey was going to suggest turning back. 

“That’s right, there should be a cave about a hundred meters from here.” Scrooge said, leading them into a dark cavern.

They snapped on their glow sticks and looked around.

“Ah, guys? I don’t think we’re the first explorers to have this idea.” Webby’s nervous voice came from the other side of the cave.

Della hurried over, holding her own light source aloft, and seeing a rather disturbing sight. Headless bodies were embedded in the ice, frozen as if the ice had captured them mid-struggle.

“Where are their heads?” Della asked. Of course the real question was what could have killed them? People aren’t usually decapitated while climbing a mountain, which limited what the cause of death could be. A yeti? A crazed fellow explorer with an axe? Perhaps some angry mountain spirits? It was a mystery that Della couldn’t pass up.

“Found them.” Dewey called out grimly from behind her, and sure enough, there were the skulls of the lost adventurers. 

“What could have done this?” Louie vocalized, voice shaky. Her son didn’t handle gruesome sights very well, and she knew he must be feeling queasy at the sight of skeletons. She shook it off though, Louie had been on quite a few adventures, he could handle himself, right? 

“We don’t have time to worry about it now, we have to make it to that summit before sundown.” Scrooge said, “Now come on I think the storm might have passed by now…” 

“Wasn’t the entrance right here?” he asked, turning in small circles looking for the opening to the cave.  
He turned heel and walked in the opposite direction, only to almost literally run into another dead body.

“Gah!” Scrooge yelled out in surprise.

The she and the kids gathered behind him, and looked at the most recent discovery. It was another skeleton, but this one was not only complete, but seemed to be sporting a familiar mustache.

“Is that?” 

“George Mallardy. Greatest mountaineer of the 20th century.” Scrooge confirmed.

“He seems to have written something on the wall.” Huey observed, holding his glow stick aloft.

And sure enough, on the wall was roughly scrawled.

CURSE YOU MCDUCK

“Of course,” Della said, it was hardly new for anyone or anything to be mad, or want revenge on her uncle, it was honestly just par for the course.

Still, she just like her children gave Scrooge a look letting him know that they wanted an explanation.

“Oh come now, if I had a nickel for everyone who cursed me with their dying breath, I’d be twice as rich as I am already!” Scrooge tried to reason, giving a sheepish smile.

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Della muttered, it seemed when she and her brother were growing up, every other day they would meet another one of her uncle’s enemies. 

Huey, however, seemed less than satisfied with this answer, citing his JWG.

“Junior Woodchuck Rule 208. A leader should always be honest with his crew.”

“Fine.” Scrooge sighed, resigned. “I was the Neverrest Ninny.”

“WHAT?!”

“Seventy-five years ago today. I attempted to climb this very mountain. See, I had just made my first million, and I wanted to do something no one had ever done before. So I hired Mallardy to lead me up the mountain. But I was burdened by inexperience, and doubt, plus a rather large amount of supplies. Mallardy mocked me mercilessly, and when he told me to abandon our emergency supplies, I refused. He cut me loose, I was branded the ‘Neverrest Ninny’ and Mallardy ended up being the one to make it furthest up the mountain. Until today.” Scrooge confessed, before stepping over the detached leg of the remains. “Now he’s the second farthest.” he said smugly.

“UNCLE SCROOGE!” Louie and Huey exclaimed, shocked at their great-uncle’s lack of respect.

“What! He almost to get me killed!” Scrooge said defensively.

“I think the mountain got even for you.” Huey argued

“And now, we’ll get even with the mountain.” Scrooge declared

Della sensed an argument, coming up. An argument she wanted to avoid, so she looked around and spotted some light filtering in through a snow pile against the opposite wall. 

“Wait a second, where did all those headless bodies go? I swear they were here a second ago.” Dewey said, confused.

“Hey guys, I found an opening.” Della announced, overriding her son’s question.

They pushed their way through the snow wall, sunlight flooding into the cave, and they hesitantly stepped over the adventurer’s corpse. Finding their way into the clear fresh air, and… 

“Is that Bunny Rock?” 

“No, it can’t be, that’s impossible.” Scrooge said, 

“Obviously it isn’t impossible.” Huey snapped “This trail is taking us in circles, it would be safest if we-”

“Headed the other way.” Scrooge interrupted, heading towards a steep incline that they had avoided in their first ascent.

They trudged up the hill, with Scrooge and Della leading the way, Huey and Dewey in the middle and Louie and Webby bringing up the back. At the top, they were able to see it.

“At last, the summit of Mt. Neverrest. We’re in the clear now kids! HAH-HA!!”  
Scrooge cried out joyously.

But, as if in response to his declaration, a tower of rock fell right next to them, sliding down the rest of the mountain.

“Heh-heh.” Scrooge called out meekly

“How did we get so close so fast?” Webby asked, it was only a short hill ago that the summit seemed miles up, yet now it was just in their grasp.

“Does it matter?” Della asked rhetorically, if they made it to the top, it shouldn’t matter how they get there. 

“THAT’S IT! I am putting my foot down! We’re running out of supplies, it’s getting cold so even if we make it to the top, we’ll freeze to death before we get back down, and if we try to go up this way this whole mountain is going to come down!” Huey ranted.

Meanwhile, Dewey, Webby, and Louie climbed further up the mountain, stopping on another stone pillar.

“Don’t go ninny on me lad.” Scrooge growled, almost threateningly.

“Yeah, Huey how are you supposed to get your Cartography badge with that kind of attitude?” Della asked, trying to encourage her kid, however it had the opposite of the intended effect, as Huey yelled back.

“I don’t care, we need to turn around, NOW!”

“No, we can’t give up the peak is literally right there.” Della argued

“It’s not giving up, it’s having common sense!” Huey shouted

“For the last time, nothing bad is going to happen to you!!” Scrooge bellowed, and the mountain shook around them, and the rock formation that Della’s kids were standing on collapsed, throwing them off the cliff behind them.

“KIDS!!!” Della screamed, racing to the edge. This can’t happen, not her family, not again.

“Yodel-le-he-hoo!” a sound came from the ice falls behind her. Della turned, and as she thought, there were her kids standing on another pillar, totally fine.

“How’d you guys get up there?” Huey asked, and Della wondered the same, that fall could’ve and should’ve been fatal, and yet…

“I dunno.” Dewey said, shrugging his shoulders.

“This mountain doesn’t make any sense.” Scrooge admitted, looking as confused as Della felt.

“Wait a second,” Huey said mainly to himself before gathering up some snow into a ball and throwing it off the same cliff. Della watched its descent, and saw the flash of green as it suddenly disappeared. Not a second later she heard Dewey.

“Hey!” he protested, the snowball hitting him on the back of the head.

“What the blazing bagpipes is going on!” Scrooge cried out.

“Wormholes. This mountain must be surrounded in some kind’ve transdimensional energy, that form miniature portals. That’s what’s been zapping us around the trail all day, but between the fog and the snow we didn’t even notice it.” Huey explained.

“Hah! A mountain protecting its peak with portals, Neverrest you beauty!” Scrooge exclaimed. 

Meanwhile, Della leapt off of the same cliff, and fell through a portal right onto the same rock as her kids. 

“Mom? What are you doing?” Louie asked

“We need to find a way to the top, duh.” Della stated as if she had not just watched the three of them almost fall to their deaths.

With that, she jumped off the side of their perch, a portal catching her fall and sending her up the mountain, and onto another platform. Dewey and Webby were quick to follow, and she continued, leaping from one platform to the next, relying on the wormholes to take her upward. Much to the distress of her youngest son.

“Mom, stop! You don’t know where the portals are, they could lead to open air, or there couldn’t be one there at all.” Louie protested, but Della didn’t listen, and proceeded to jump through the wormholes. 

“I don’t need to climb the ice fall, I just need to find the one that leads to the top.” She heard Scrooge say, before he pulled the same stunt as her, jumping off the cliff, however the energy seemed to have shifted, as he emerged right next to the peak, while she, Dewey, and Webby were on the pillar next to his.

“HA! I’m gonna do it. Neverrest, consider yourself conquered!” Scrooge leapt towards the peak, but a portal sent him right back where he was. He tried numerous times, but he couldn’t quite reach the summit.

“You can’t reach the top! The mountain won’t let you!” Huey yelled from the base of the falls.

“Look at how far we’ve come!” Scrooge argued back.

“Farther than anyone ever has before. Junior Woodchuck Rule number 1782, sometimes the bravest thing an explorer can do is walk away.”

With that Huey let go of his Cartography badge, letting it float in the wind. It zapped through a portal, and floated into Scrooge’s hand, who also let it go.

The ground gave a sudden rumble, and Della unstrapped the sled from her back. If this mountain was going down, they were going to need it. Her prediction came true not soon after, as the pillars of stone crumbled, leaving Scrooge and Louie to hold on to the stone as it fell. Della however, got on her sled with Dewey and Webby, and braced herself as their column crumbled.

As they fell Della reached out her arms, one for her uncle and one for her son. She snagged both as they fell and pulled them onto the wooden sled. They fell onto the snow and started to accelerate rapidly, the steep angle and slick snow propelling them. However, they weren’t out pacing the avalanche that was roaring down the mountain behind them, until they suddenly found themselves next to Huey, who had dodged the falling debris, and was managing to outrun the torrent of snow. 

Della steered the sled over, and Scrooge reaching out managed to grab onto Huey and pull him on the sled, just as they flew into the air, a ridge sending them upwards into the sky. They screamed, but were quickly teleported just in front of the demon faced rock as it came loose and started to travel with the snow. They screamed again, only to once again find themselves somewhere different.

On top of the satanic stone face, they could see the upcoming town, however just before they crashed into a house, they were teleported to the part of the town that the snow had already reached.

They ended up near where they started, buried waist deep in snow.

“Ha,” Louie let out a disbelieving laugh “We’re alive. Oh my gosh, we’re still alive!” he shouted gleefully.

Under normal circumstances, Della would have laughed, but in that moment, her son was too similar, far, far too similar to her brother. It was exactly the same, Della, and Scrooge put them in immediate danger just for the adventure, they would ignore that person’s multiple warnings on what a bad idea it was and do reckless things anyway, they would all almost die, and then, boom, adventure over. The only difference was that it used to be Donald, but today it was her kids that had almost died because of her.

She looked down at the scarf she was wearing, from a Christmas far in the past. What was she doing? She couldn’t be the ‘old Della’ that Della died with her brother, and shouldn’t be brought back. They got lucky today, but Della knew from experience that luck would always run out eventually, and she couldn’t afford to have that happen to her kids. But first she had to do something she regretted never doing to Donald. Apologizing for it

“Hey, Huey, Louie?” she called out tentatively.

“Yeah?” They responded simultaneously, Louie still next to her, and Huey holding a blue t-shirt.

“I just wanted to let you guys know that I’m sorry. We-no-I should have listened to your warnings, but I didn’t. I put you guys at risk for no good reason, and I’m sorry.” she confessed.

“It’s okay Mom, really. I forgive you.” Louie said wrapping her in a hug.

“I forgive you too.” Huey sounded off, joining in the group hug

“Now where is that hot cocoa stand? I am freezing.” Della said getting up from her seat in the snow.

A short time later, they all sat around a table, drinking hot chocolate. Webby was challenging Dewey on the amount of marshmallows they could fit in their mouths, Louie was talking to Launchpad about getting a ‘refund’ on all his gear, and Huey and Scrooge talked about what adventure they would go on next.

And Della?

Well Della simply sat, staring at the blue scarf tied around her neck, thinking of how much her brother would love this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To any Lena fans out there (and I know these fans exist for sure) I swear she's gonna make it into one of these chapters soon. Also I'm sorry that I'm not also posting a accompanying Donald chapter at the same time as this one, but I took Halloween off, so I'm behind on my writing schedule.


	10. Actions Have Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is like SUPER short, so I apologize for that, however I will make it up to you. Coming tomorrow is a Della Duck-Tales Quadruple Feature, so stay tuned for that.

Donald needed to stop this invasion as quickly as possible. 

He finally was physically able to go home, and it took all of his willpower not to fire up the Spear and rocket away from the moon, never to return.

But his willpower was strong, and he knew what he had to do before he left this accursed place.

It didn’t take him long to find the city again, as it seemed that they weren’t yet able to fix the massive hologram projector that he destroyed. However, the city seemed different than the last time he saw it. Guards walked the streets, and the settlement was completely silent, unlike the bustling metropolis that it was before, this city was ready for war. 

Donald waited until a group of soldiers past before sneaking his way into the city. He made his way through the streets, dodging the hundreds of guards that patrolled the roads, ducking in and out of alleys, making his way towards the center of the city.

A commanding female voice came from the distance, and Donald followed it. He climbed on top of a building and saw the female alien from before, giving a speech from a giant golden statue. She sported a bandage wrapped around her knee, but it didn’t slow her down, as she spoke.

“This is the greatest threat we have ever faced! The earther arrived here in Tranquility and what did he do? He murdered General Lunaris, injured me, and he slaughtered fifty-seven of our people. This is a sign, a sign that Earth is ready for intergalactic war, and that they intend to conquer us in the process. WILL WE LET THEM?!”

“NO!” the crowd responded, hundred of thousands of voices all ringing out in unison.

“WILL WE LET THE MURDERER WALK OUR PLANET?!”

“NO!”

“WILL WE LET GENERAL LUNARIS’S DEATH GO UNAVENGED!?”

“NO!”

“ARE WE TO LIE DORMANT, AS OUR PEOPLE LIVE IN FEAR?”

“NO!”

“WHO ARE WE??!!”

“WE ARE THE MIGHTY!”  
“WE ARE THE MOON!!!”

He unholstered one of his guns, the new General was in his sights. One clean shot and he could set back the aliens even more than before, maybe even stop them permanently.

But, for the first time in a long time, Donald hesitated.

The moonlanders were right, he was a killer. It might have been out of self defense, but he had killed so many in his quest to escape the city. However, he could justify those actions to himself, he was desperate, he just wanted to go home. But right now, if he pulled that trigger, he would no longer be someone acting out of fear. He would be a true murderer, an assassin, someone to be feared.

The blaster hit the rooftop with a clatter.

Donald couldn’t do it, he couldn’t take that kind of action. 

So, he swore quietly to himself, that he wouldn’t kill, not while he had a choice. But, if these aliens tried to hurt his family again, then Donald wouldn’t hesitate to kill every last one of them.

But, in the meantime, if he wasn’t going to kill the moonlanders than he needed another way to slow them down. He saw the military headquarters where he was imprisoned in the distance, and smiled, he knew just where to start.

The building was thankfully mostly empty, only a few guards patrolled the halls. Still Donald had to be careful, he couldn’t afford to be discovered so early into his plan. So he knocked off the grate of the ventilation system, after all, no one ever checked the vents. 

It took a while, and quite a bit of wrong turns, but Donald found what he was looking for.

The armory.

Legend has it, that his ancestor, Cornelius Coot, possessed a golden armory, and if Donald were to imagine what it looked like, this would more or less be it.

The entire room was composed of gold, and lining the walls were pieces of golden armor, countless blasters, sharp swords, and glittering spears. There were many tables lining the walls, and on them sat stranger devices, communicators, and what Donald immediately recognized as grenades.

Donald started with what he knew he would need, he fastened a curved golden cutlass to his side, reloaded the General’s old blaster, and strapped a belt to his waist, loading it with as many grenades as possible.

He was practically armed to the teeth, and Donald was about to leave. 

But he knew that simply raiding their weapons wouldn’t stop anything, it wouldn’t even slow them down, however, he didn’t have any other ideas for what he could do at the moment. 

That’s when he saw it. In the far back corner of the room, stood a small golden table, and on top of it sat a familiar red book.

That couldn’t be it, right? Right? There was no world in this entire universe where Donald was that lucky. And yet, there it was, the Instruction Manual in all its battered glory.

Donald couldn’t help the wide grin that came to his face at the sight of it.

This was it, he was finally going to be able to go home. Without this book the moonlanders couldn’t build their own fleet, and without that, his planet was safe. He snatched the book greedily off of the table and it took a great deal of effort not to cry out for joy. But Donald managed, he had to get out of the city in one piece if he wanted to go home.

So he slinked out of the building, and back onto the streets of Tranquility. He soon snuck his way out of the city.

When he reached his ship, he did what he wanted to do since he saw that book, he laughed, tears ran down his face, he just laughed. It was a broken sound, cracked and raspy, and full of relief.

However, as much as Donald wanted to leave this dust ball immediately, he could feel the tiredness that sat in the back of his mind start to take over. He had been on a constant adrenaline rush since he killed the General, he could have been awake for hours, maybe even days, and he had to rest, just for a few hours, then he could go back to Earth, to his family. He cast off his weapons and laid down on the cold metal floor of his ship, a content smile graced his beak as he drifted off.

On the dark side of the moon, General Penumbra stood next to a moon scientist.

“The plan worked exceptionally, General, he fell right for the bait, just as you said he would.” The technician showed footage on the screen of Donald grabbing the manual.

“And the tracker? Do we have his location?”

“Yes General,” the moonlander confirmed, showing a map of the moon with a red dot labeled ‘Earther’

“Excellent work. Now, assemble the troops. I want Donald Duck dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, sorry that this chapter is so short. But tomorrow, four, (yes four) longer chapters will be posted.


	11. We're Gonna Need A Bigger Money Bin

Della opened the door to the mansion with a bang, treasure filling her arms. Gosh, it felt good to be adventuring like this again. 

“Remember the saying kids ‘beans be the magical fruit, plant your beans then grab some loot.’” Scrooge said, following her through the door, arms also full of gold and gems. 

“Wow, I have been saying that rhyme all wrong.” Dewey said, rolling in a giant golden coin. 

“Don’t worry about this, Uncle Scrooge, we’ll take it so you don’t throw out your old man back.” Louie said, not so subtly trying to gain the gold for himself. 

“Nice try lad, but you know the drill, all money goes to the bin…” 

“Not next of kin.” Louie grumbled, finishing the sentence for his great-uncle.Dumping all the treasure from his pockets onto the floor.

Della resisted the urge to chuckle at her son’s antics, Louie always had (mostly) good intentions when it came to money. It was where he went to get it that had Della slightly concerned. Nonetheless, it was always a bit humorous whenever he would unsuccessfully try to glean cash off of their uncle, since Della knew that it would never work. 

It was Webby who came in next, pushing in a massive stone bust, before seeing something that Della didn’t.

“Lena!” Webby exclaimed, jumping over the rock head, and running over to a taller duck, and hugging her. She was obviously older than Webby by at least a couple years, and had dyed hair, and wore loose fitting clothing.

“Hey, not much of a hugger.” the older girl protested.

“Are you ready for our sleepover?!” Webby asked excitedly.

Oh right, that was tonight. Webby had asked Della about having her new friend over for about a week now, and Della couldn’t exactly refuse her niece. After all, it was good for Webby to have friends outside of her cousins, not to mention to get out of the house more.  
Still, Della had wanted to get to meet the girl before she had come to spend the night, but it turned out that Webby had no real way of contacting her, so right now would have to do. 

She walked over to the two girls and forced a bit of a subtle cough.

“Oh hey Aunt Della. This is my friend, Lena.” Webby introduced, even though Della already knew what the girl’s name was. 

“Hey Ms. Duck.” Lena greeted, she seemed friendly enough, but there was something off about her that Della couldn’t quite place. 

“Please, call me Della.” she said, holding out her hand for Lena to shake.

The younger duck took it hesitantly, and Della shook it firmly. 

“Alright, Della.” the younger duck said slowly.

And with a simple “Make yourself at home.” Della left the two to their own devices

“Now come on Lena, I’m thinking, movie, popcorn…” Webby listed all her planned activities and food items and Della stepped away, smiling internally. It was always good when Webby was excited for something. As of late, she had seemed to be more detached from events, and it seemed she spent more, and more time at the bin, which was strange in itself.

She passed her uncle who seemed to be preparing for some sort of interview with 22. Maybe she would turn in early tonight, she was definitely seeing what Donald was talking about whenever he refused to go on another adventure unless it was at least twelve hours since the last one. Della was absolutely beat, and with Webby with Lena, Scrooge doing an interview, and the triplets no doubt finding something to do by themselves, it was the perfect night to go to bed early, and sleep in late the next morning.

So while Della headed to bed, two ducks sat in one of the many rooms in the manor.

“So living here has to be like, super crazy, huh?” Lena asked, sitting on the floor of Webby’s room.

“Pretty much. It definitely exposes you to stuff that I’ve never even heard of before. For example, magic. I used to think it wasn’t real, but then I moved here.” Webby explained. She had to hide her large board on her father before Lena had arrived, and the wall looked a bit bare without it. 

“Oh? You get a lot of exposure to magic?” Lena asked

“Not really,” Webby confessed, with a touch of disappointment “Uncle Scrooge says that magic is just a ‘cheap shortcut to hard work.’” Webby said, imitating her great-uncle’s scottish brogue. 

“Of course, I did sneak a couple books into the house, if you wanted to see them.” Webby offered off-handedly. The truth of the matter was that she was trying to connect to the spirit realm to see if her father was in the land of the dead. However, she had absolutely nothing happen when she tried the spell, so she wasn’t exactly certain in the book’s power. 

“Sure, why not.” Lena said.

“Alright, here it is. The ‘Merlocke Mystique’ theoretically it holds the power to raise the dead, vanquish powerful foes, and grant the wielder great power. Theoretically.” Webby said, allowing a bit of her bitterness toward the book show. 

“Well enough about magic, how about that movie, huh?” Lena asked.

“Sure thing, but first. I made this for you.” Webby said, holding out a friendship bracelet.

“Is that a friendship bracelet?” Lena asked, sounded genuinely surprised.

“Well sure, we’re friends aren’t we?” Webby asked

“Yeah. Yeah, absolutely.” Lena quickly remedied.

Then, out of the blue, Louie and Huey burst through the door, out of breath and miming seeming nonsense.

“Dewey was eaten by a shark composed out of money at the bin?” Webby guessed, and her cousins nodded in confirmation.

“How did you-” Lena asked

“Grow up with them and you’ll learn to understand them too.” Webby quickly explained

“We need to tell somebody!” Louie said, finally getting his breath back enough to speak.

“Well we can’t tell Scrooge.” Huey interjected.

“Why not?” Webby asked genuinely, asking their uncle for help seemed the wisest course of action after all.

“We may or may not have been at the bin without permission.” Louie confessed.

“Well, that’s not really a priority, Dewey is in danger.” Webby said, only to be cut off by her friend.

“No, Huey’s right, if Scrooge finds out, then he’ll feed them to the shark himself. We need somebody else.” Lena butted in.

“We also need a way to maneuver the bin without getting eaten, like a boat.” Huey interjected.

“Where are we going to find a boat?” Webby demanded, they didn’t exactly have watercraft on demand.

“I know where. But you’re not going to like it.” Louie said grimly.

“Mom?”

“Aunt Della?”

“Ms. Duck?”

Multitudes of voices surrounded Della, and she woke with a start, her kids needed her.

She sat up and, sure enough, there was Louie, Huey, Webby, and Lena. 

“What’re you kids doing here?” she grumbled out groggily.

“Aunt Della, Dewey’s in danger-”

As soon as the word ‘danger’ crossed Webby’s beak, Della was out of bed and awake.

“Danger? Where? What happened?” she interrogated.

“There’s a money shark in the money bin, and it ate Dewey.” Huey quickly explained.

“My best friend Dewey is in trouble. I can sense it.” Launchpad said, suddenly bursting through the door.

“We’re gonna need a boat if we want to save him, but we don’t know where to get one.” Louie elaborated.

“I don’t have access to a boat, I’m not sure Mr. McDee even has one.” Launchpad added.

“Alright everyone, I have a plan.” Della said. She swore to herself that she wouldn’t tell the kids anything about this, but now she had no choice. Her kid was in danger. 

“Whose boat even is this?” Huey asked, looking around the deck of the white and blue houseboat.

“It’s mine.” Della said exiting from the interior of the boat. “Now, are we sure this is going to work?”

“I’m sure Launchpad knows what he’s doing.” Huey reassured her, as massive hooks descended onto the boat. Della started to hook them to strong places on the boat.

“Also, how come Launchpad can’t get a boat, but he can get a CH-47 Chinook?” she asked, fastening the last of the cables to the boat. She gave a thumbs up to the pilot above her, and he ascended, lifting the boat out of the marina, and towards the money bin.  
“Do we have any sort of plan for how to get Dewey out of this money shark?” Della asked as four kids joined her on the deck.

“Well, you attract real sharks with chum, so I a money shark should be attracted to expensive things.” Huey explained as he retrieved a harpoon and Louie threw down a sack of treasure.

“That might just work, good job.” Della praised, as they were lowered into the money bin. 

Launchpad slid down a rope and joined them on deck, as the bin was bathed in shadows as the skylight closed.

The room was silent, the only sound that prevailed was that of coins clinking against one another, shifting as something moved through it.

She saw the fin before anything else, it rose out of the sea of coins and moved towards them. It got closer and closer, and jumped over the boat, coins rained down around them and Della got her first good look at the monster, it was massive, and composed of pure gold, except for the eyes that glowed a dark, evil red. 

“We’re gonna need a bigger boat.” she uttered, not one to miss the opportunity for a reference.

“Really Mom?” her kids groaned at her bad movie reference.

“What?” Della protested “How could I pass up such a perfect opportunity like this?”

“Easily. Very, very easily.” Louie responded dryly.

“Alright, that should do it.” Huey said, tying the sack of riches to the thick rope of the harpoon. 

“This is so coming out of Dewey’s inheritance.” Louie stated, shooting out the harpoon onto the sea of cold cash. 

The shark fin had circled around again, and went straight towards the sack of gold.

“Launchpad, start the engine!” Della commanded over her shoulder.  
The engine roared to life, and hummed, waiting. It was silent, as everyone waited with bated breath. Finally, the creature emerged, and swallowed the sack whole.

“Huey, now!” she ordered, and the Huey started to reel the beast in as the line went taunt. The ropes began to fray as her son brought the shark in, but it was holding.

It was like she saw it in slow motion, Huey’s ankle was in the middle of the coil of rope, and Louie was holding onto Huey, then the cleat broke off the boat, and the rope was being lost rapidly. Then it reached the end, tightening the coil around Huey’s leg, and pulling the two into the air, and they flew outward, but the shark was there to greet them, it opened its jaws and swallowed her kids whole.

“NO! Huey! Louie!” Della yelled out, this shark definitely has made its way to the top of Della’s shit list. Still, she had to remain calm if she wanted to get her boys back.

“Aunt Della, what do we do?” Webby asked, it was obvious that their attempts to physically subdue the monster were unsuccessful.

“The creature appears to be magical. If that is the case, then the best way to dispose of it would be to either destroy its source of power, or use other magic against it. If I were to guess, I’d bet on its eyes being our target. We destroy those, it’s game over for this metal abomination.” Della explained.

“But, what do you need to destroy the eyes?” Lena asked, sounding wary.

“Oh, you’ll find that most things can be used to destroy evil magical objects of power.” Della said, starting to descend below deck “Crowbars, canes, people's heads, and swords.” she reemerged holding a dusty cutlass.

“Fortunately there are a few of those still lying around here.” she finished, wiping dust off the blade with her shirt.

“Launchpad is hungry. Hungry for vengeance. Vengeance for Dewey.” Launchpad was raving about getting revenge for her son.

“Launchpad!” Lena and Webby both shouted, snapping Launchpad out of his rant. 

“So crash boat now?” he asked, shaking his head.

“NO! There will be no crashing of this boat, I just need you to get me close.” Della commanded.

“Yes, ma’m Ms McDee,” Launchpad said, saluting and firing up the boat. 

“And for the last time, it’s either Della or Ms Duck!” she yelled, just as the boat pulled up next to the shark. It rose only slightly out of the coinage, but that was enough for Della. 

Della leapt overboard, and landed on the shark’s nose. She stabbed the cutlass down, and it roared in anger, or perhaps pain. But the desired effect was there as it rose up even more, exposing its flickering red eyes. However, before Della could do anything, the coins beneath her became a lot less stable. She realized too late that it had control over how tightly packed the coins were, as she fell through, right into its mouth. The inside of the beast was large, and it tipped, in order to force her down its throat, however it would take more than that to stop Della Duck.

She buried her sword into the bottom of its throat, giving her a handhold, until she saw the small platform a few feet down. She drew her sword from the hide of the beast and dropped down onto the golden foothold so she could sheath the cutlass. Della dug her hands into the gold, and started to ascend, however the beast was doing its best to stop her. The coins would become more tightly packed whenever she went to make another handhold, and they would try their best to crush her hands, whenever she did dig into the gold. It was painful, but she didn’t give up, and she made her way back to the entrance to the beast’s throat, where two rubies glowed a blood red. Della drew the cutlass gripping it tightly, and drove it through one of the eyes.

The creature roared in pain, and Della was about to go for the other one, when suddenly she felt her body go weightless.

Webby and Lena were still on the boat with Launchpad. They had watched Della fall into the mouth of the beast, and it began to circle the boat. 

“Lena, I have an idea. Della said that the money shark can also be stopped by another magical force, and according to the Merlocke Mystique, such a force could be that of friendship. Sure, it’s a little cliche, but with these,” Webby held up her own friendship bracelet, “it’s sure to work.” 

“Now, chant with me ‘with the hand of my best friend, we bring about the money shark’s end’” Webby began to chant, closing her eyes, and she grabbed Lena’s hand.

Lena’s entire body began to radiate a dangerous pink light, but then it changed into a softer blue glow. The money shark began to seem to tremble, as it circled them, but Lena couldn’t afford to stop Tiffany now.

“Webby, it’s not working.” she lied, forcing her to let go of her hand, and the glow instantly disappeared, much to Lena’s relief. If this plan didn’t work, she couldn’t afford to be exposed this early into the game. 

Webby opened her eyes and turned to Lena, hurt in her eyes, and she immediately felt a pang of guilt. 

“What’s wrong? Is our friendship not magical enough for you?” Webby asked, but then they heard a roar emanating from the golden predator. They turned just in time to see the blade that was sticking through the place where the eye had been previously. However, it only lasted for a second, as the money shark suddenly leapt out of the sea of coins, and flying over their heads, crashed through the window and onto the bridge below.

“Noooooo! My vengeance!” Launchpad cried out, and the two girls jumped overboard, onto the cash, running toward the exit.

They exited the bin, Launchpad close behind them. The shark somehow grew legs, and was now terrorizing the citizens of Duckburg. However, it seemed that taking out its eye took away a large chunk of its power, as it was partially falling apart, its hold on the gold loosened. 

There were dozens of people, picking up the gold it was dropping. And Launchpad, being the brash, not so bright hero. Picked up a harpoon gun from one of the folks trying to claim a piece of Scrooge’s fortune.

“Dewey! I’m coming!” he yelled out, and charged the shark, shooting the harpoon straight through the creature’s skin. However, this did absolutely nothing as the monster, simply swallowed him whole. 

Then, out of nowhere, a limo screeched onto the bridge, and out walked Scrooge McDuck.  
“When I see Launchpad, I’m docking him a day’s wages.” he complained in his scottish brogue.

Scrooge was here, this wasn’t good for Lena, not good at all. The idea was that, he wouldn’t arrive until Magica had his dime.

“Interesting…” her shadow said, suddenly coming to life.

“What? He wasn’t supposed to show up until we had the dime!” she argued, she was this close to having everything she ever wanted, but Scrooge would likely find a way to stop the golden sea creature.

“Don’t you see, Lena? He has the dime, that’s why Tiffany couldn’t sense it in the bin. But now, now it’s in our grasp.” the malevolent shadow explained. The shark then released an unholy metallic sound, drawing in all the treasure around her, and ripping a necklace off of Scrooge’s neck. 

“Me dime!!” he exclaimed, reaching out, for the pendant that was now stuck to one of the shark’s giant teeth.

“Oh, of course.” Lena said dryly.

“Now Lena, get the dime, and claim everything you heart desires.” Magica instructed

“How am I supposed to get the dime without getting eaten!” she demanded of the red-eyed shade.

“Oh, you’ll figure it out.” she said dismissively.

“Helpful.” Lena muttered, as Webby caught up to her, and Scrooge charged the beast, trying to beat it with his cane. 

“Lena! We have to stop it! Take my hand!” Webby said, 

“Webby no, you don’t know what you’re doing!” Lena protested.

Suddenly the beast, went to eat both of them, but Webby pushed her out of the way in the nick of time, and was consumed by the beast. 

“Webby! No!” Lena cried out, but only a second later the shark slammed her jaw over Lena, trying to swallow her as well.

The monster’s mouth was bathed in a red light, and it was there that she found Della, still holding onto the monster’s mouth, trying to get close to the second eye. Webby was also there, holding onto the creature’s throat, trying her best not to fall into its stomach.

“Webby, why did you save me? I thought you were mad at me!” 

“We’re friends, you idiot! Nothing is going to change that.” with that the space shook, and Webby lost her grip falling into its stomach.

“Lena. Lena, quickly, stop her.” Magica commanded, pointing to where Della was about to stab the other eye. 

“No.” she said, and Della raised her cutlass.

“Smile you son of a b-” Della struck, piercing the other eye. 

The money shark exploded into a million gold coins, and Lena suddenly found herself back on the bridge, a bloody and bruised Della next to her, and Dewey, Louie, Huey, and Launchpad a few feet away. While Scrooge, picked up his number one dime, putting it back over his neck. However, she didn’t see her friend, Lena was about to call out when she was unexpectedly tackled by the very person she was looking for. And this time, Lena hugged back.

“Next time, we have a sleepover at my place.” Lena commented,and the two girls laughed.


	12. The Spear of Selene

The plane shook as the storm raged around them, Launchpad was doing his best not to crash, but it was an uphill battle.

CRACK!

A bolt of lightning struck the plane, and the plane dipped down. But Launchpad quickly hit a mash of random buttons, managing to straighten the plane in the air.

“Don’t worry, a little lightning never hurt anyone.” Launchpad reassured.

“You have absolutely no idea how wrong that is.” Aunt Della countered, facepalming.

However, just this once, Webby needed the pilot to crash. So she gave the signal to Dewey, who flicked several switches, and turned a dial causing a red light to start blinking.

“Hey, what’s that light?” Webby asked, pointing to it.

“Oh, I’m sure that’s the ‘everything is fine’ light.” Launchpad said, but he sounded unsure.

“Okay, but hypothetically speaking, what if it’s the ‘everything is NOT fine’ light.” Dewey added from the other side of the pilot.

“Oh, no!” Launchpad exclaimed, letting go of the yoke, and turning switches and flipping levers.

The plane nose took a sharp turn downwards, plummeting toward an island.

“Are you insane?!” Della demanded trying to get in the pilot's seat, only to be knocked into the weightless air by Dewey, who strategically let go as soon as she got closer.

CRASH!!

“Where are we?” Louie asked, peering out of the round windows.

“According to my JWG, we should be off the coast of Greece, and. No it can’t be I thought this place was a myth.” Huey said in disbelief

“Ithaquack.” Scrooge confirmed.

“We need to get this plane in the air. NOW!” Scrooge yelled.

“Well, while we’re here we might as well look around.” Webby slyly suggested, hitting the button to the ramp before either of the adults could respond, letting her three cousins out.

She pulled Dewey with her behind a rock.

“Come on, according to the book in the archives, the Temple of Heroes should be on the top of the mountain.

“Right, and we want to go there because?” Dewey asked with confusion.

“Because, it’s a place full of Greek artifacts. A place where one might find a certain Spear of Selene.” Webby explained. 

It had taken Webby forever to orchestrate this scheme of hers. It hadn’t taken long to find resources on who Selene was, and where her relics might be hidden. But waiting for a chance where they were flying over the Grecean islands took an eternity and a half. But now that they were here, they could finally figure out what happened to her father.

“Right, and what do we know about that?” Dewey asked

“The Spear of Selene? Absolutely nothing, that’s what. Gladstone knew nothing, and there is nothing in the archives even mentioning the Spear. All we know that your mom took it at some point, and that my dad went to stop her from doing… whatever it was she was going to do.” Webby explained, for what felt like the umpteenth time.

“Oh yeah, the notes!” Dewey exclaimed pulling out his phone.

“Here, let me see those again.” Webby requested, although if she was honest, she had already memorized both of them.

“‘Scrooge, I’ve taken the Spear of Selene, I’m sorry -Della’, and, ‘Scrooge, I know about the Spear. How could you? I’ve gone to talk some sense into Della. Watch the kids! -Donald.’” Webby read aloud. 

“What do you think it means?” Dewey asked, as he trudged up the mountain with her.

“I’ve been trying to figure it out. I think that my dad was trying to stop your mom from doing something with the Spear of Selene, but I have no idea what. But I have a feeling that we’re gonna find out soon enough.” Webby said looking up at the building in front of them. 

Meanwhile…

“We need to get out of here, while we still can.” Della said, standing over her son clad in green, already holding onto her eldest son.

“Oh come on, what’s dangerous about a beautiful Grecian island?” Louie complained.

Then, from nowhere came a blur of white and gold, and their mother had been swept up in a massive hug.

“Della Duck! You have returned.” a massive stork proclaimed, he was at least seven feet tall, and his muscles were huge.

“Hi Storkules.” their mom said, voice muffled from her face being pressed into the bird’s chest.

“Storkules? As in THE Storkules? Greek hero of legend? Performer of the twelve labors?” Huey asked.

“Tis I!” the hero responded

“We need to get out of here before…” Scrooge interjected

CRACK!

Lightning crackled through the air and an imposing figure on a storm cloud floated down toward them.

“Scrooge McDuck! You dare defy the will of the gods?! I told you never to return here!” a voice sounded out.

The figure landed on the ground, pointing on their uncle who stood behind them.

“He shows up.” Scrooge finished 

“Zeus?! King of the gods?! The myths are real, this is the best place ever!” Huey exclaimed. 

“It was. Until your uncle and his mortal riffraff came along and ruined it!” Zeus responded

“What do you mean?” Huey asked, ever curious.

“Ithaquack was the secret vacation spot for gods and heroes, and I was the god of hospitality, the king of the beach, and everyone loved me. Then years ago, your family landed on Ithaquack. I welcomed them, That is until Scrooge defeated the undefeatable gorgon, found the lost treasure of Troy, and was really good at building sandcastles. He completely overshadowed me.” Zeus explained

“But, what happened to everyone else?” Della asked,

“They left when you did. Said they didn’t want to party with the ‘lame god’ who couldn’t even best a lowly mortal.” 

At this Scrooge picked up a vase depicting the god reigning upon angry citizens.

“There may have also been a year long lightning storm.” Zeus admitted meekly

“But now that you have returned, Storkules, fiery Della, and noble… halt, pray tell, where is best friend Donald?” Storkules asked, holding Della at arms length. 

In response, she just looked at the ground morosely, she wasn’t ready to tell what had happened to her brother. Not to Storkules. And definitely not with her kids here.

“I see. Well we shall hold a feast to honor the greatest adventurer of all time.” Storkules said,

“What!?” Zeus asked,

“Father, surely he god of hospitality would not cast out such poor, weary travellers.” Storkules persuaded.

“Well, I guess not.” Zeus grumbled

“Huzzah! Beach party!”

The party was quaint, especially when compared to the parties she remembered from the past. Then again, Della was pretty sure Donald was the only one even close to sober during those parties, so maybe her memory was faulty.

“Hmm, a little salty.” Scrooge commented, taking a bite out of a chip.

“You dare offend the mighty Zeus? You challenge Olympus itself!” Zeus exclaimed

“I’m starting to see why people complain when I speak in the third person.” Scrooge muttered leading the kids toward the plane.

“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere.” Zeus said, shooting a lightning bolt into the sky, forming a large dome around the entire area.

“A challenge. Your family versus mine, in a series of death-defying trials to prove once and for all that we are superior.” Zeus proclaimed.

The Temple of Heroes. 

Webby’s research said that it was the holder of hundreds of mythical artifacts, and a thousand trials to test the mettle of even the hardiest adventurer.

However, to her, it was just the most confusing building she had ever been in.

“Come on, this room had ‘Selene’ on the doorway.” Dewey protested

“Yeah, but that is clearly a sword hilt, we are looking for the spear of Selene.” Webby retorted.

“I know, but still, this is the closest we’ve gotten to anything Spear of Selene related.” Dewey pointed out.

Still, Webby led him away from the doorway. 

“Alright how about this one?” Dewey asked, reaching another door.

“Let’s see…” Webby said, pulling out a small piece of paper. Before they had left, Webby had the librarian, who she learned was named Quackfaster, draw up a translation for the phrase ‘the spear of Selene’ in ancient Greek. She held up the paper to the inscription on the door, and while there was no Selene, there was ‘spear’, and it was a start.

“It says ‘The Spear of’ and I don’t know that last word.” Webby explained

“At least it’s something.” Dewey offered.

“Yeah, and so far it’s the only spear, so we have to try, right?” Webby asked 

“I think we should.” Dewey confirmed

They marched through the stone doorway, and into a massive stone chamber, that was mainly filled with water. On the other side of the lake sat a shining blue spear, it glowed with power.

“Is that it? Is that the spear?” Dewey asked

“I have no idea.” Webby confessed

Suddenly, a ripple disturbed the calm water, and a hideous green creature rose from the depths. It’s tentacles flew out of the water, seizing the two ducks and squeezing them tightly. 

“We will slay you, foul beast with the very spear you are sworn to protect.” Dewey proclaimed boldly.

“YOU WILL NEVER CLAIM THE SPEAR OF POSEIDON!!” the beast screamed

“NOPE, wrong spear.” Dewey exclaimed frustrated

“Excuse me, we’re looking for the Spear of Selene, do you know where it is?” Webby asked

“Oh, sure thing, it’s down the hall, past the harpy aviary, first door on the left, Garden of Selene, can’t miss it.” the monster said, setting them back on the ground.

“Thanks!” Webby said, running out of the room.

They were this close to the truth, she could practically taste it.

“Now, the first challenge, the first one to claim the bag of the four winds, wins. Understand? 3, 2, 1, go.” Zeus said, opening a burlap sack, unleashing a massive gale.

Della simply grounded herself, and withstood the blast of wind. She wasn’t exactly invested in these pointless games. Zeus and her uncle had feuded since they had met, and it was a real drag whenever she wanted to hang out with Selene. Maybe if Zeus won, he’d finally be placated enough to let them leave. This island used to be full of vibrancy and fun for Della, but now it simply held painful memories.

Over her head, Huey flew, using the tunic they gave him, propelling him to the bag of winds. He pulled it closed, and Zeus did not look happy.

“Satisfied?” her uncle asked smirking

“Doesn’t count. Best two out of three!” Zeus proclaimed, whiny.

The following challenges were all set up in Storkules’s favor, however, he wasn’t exactly the brightest bulb in the box, so it was easy to win. That being said, she didn’t exactly try, her kids had it under control after all. 

“Now, for the ultimate challenge. Steal the Golden Fleece from this little girl.” Zeus stepped back, and there stood a small bird.

“We can’t hope to win against Storkules in this one.” Louie said,

“Oh, I don’t know boys, it might just be easier than you think.” Della winked, and gestured over to the massive bird. 

“Steal? From a child? But if I were to do such a thing, could I ever call myself a true hero?” Storkules contemplated.

“Alright Huey, now’s our chance.” Louie said, moving toward the little girl.

“No! We can’t still from a little kid.” Huey protested.

“Well we can’t just let him win. Can we?” Louie said.

“I don’t know. What do you think, mom?” Huey asked turning toward her.

“Oh no, don’t drag me into this. You kids do what you want, I’m not going to do anything.” 

10 minutes later… and Storkules was still pacing, and her sons were still bickering, while Zeus and Scrooge sat there restless.

“You know what? I changed my mind. I’m just gonna take it, the sooner we win, the sooner we can leave.” Della said, trudging towards the small duck, reaching for the golden fleece.

Only for the child to open her mouth, eyes glowing bright blue, and start to sing an enchanting melody.

“Oh, the child is also a mind-controlling siren, did I not mention that?” Zeus said, and Della could feel her mind cloud, as her limbs started to disobey her commands.

When being mind-controlled, you didn’t know what your limbs were going to do, and you had no control over any of the rest of you. So all you could do was watch as the mind-controller did whatever they pleased with your flesh and bones.

She and Storkules, whose eyes glowed the same blue that her own presumably did, began to fight her family. Thankfully though, the kids and Scrooge were good at dodging attacks, as they easily darted between Storkules’s slow strong swings, and her own smaller jabs.  
However, they couldn’t keep it up forever, and she saw herself and Storkules eventually corner her family. She saw her fists rise, ready to strike.

This was the Spear of Selene all over again.

Della had always known that Donald’s death was her fault. She had gotten in that rocket, she had been the one about to sacrifice her family in search of adventure. Donald had told her how she would get hurt, she had ignored him until the last second, and he was hurt because of it. Well not today. She refused to lose any more family. Not now. Not ever.

“NO!” Della screamed, fighting through the haze of the mind-control.

“Nobody gets hurt today.” she proclaimed, a fire in her eye as she turned toward Storkules. “Kids! I’ll distract biceps here, you get that siren to shut up!” 

Della dodged as a massive fist came toward her. She ran circles around the demigod as he tried his best to crush her with his strength. She rolled, and evaded, slipping like a mouse through the paws of a predator. But he got his hands on her eventually. Storkules was about to crush her, when unexpectedly, instead of his grip tightening, it loosened, allowing her to drop to the ground. 

Della looked over, and saw that, sure enough, her boys had managed to convince the siren to stop singing. 

“Enough of this madness Zeus. One final challenge, you versus me to decide the ultimate winner.” Scrooge called out, and without hesitation, Zeus agreed and thunder clapped as the two shook hands grimly.

This wasn’t going to be good.

“The Garden of Selene, this must be it.” Webby said, entering into a tall chamber.

“Is that, like, a model of the island?” Dewey asked, and it was. In the middle of the room stood a model mountain, complete with miniature houses, and chimera. “So, do we look in the houses, or…”

At that, a stone rumbled behind them, and a beam of pure blue light shot out and hit the round stone at the top of the mini mountain. It turned out to be a door, as an inscription glowed at the top, and the door slid open.

“What do you think it says?” Dewey asked, looking up at the shining writing.

“I have no idea, but Selene is supposed to be a benevolent god, so it’s probably not a curse or anything.” Webby stated, although for all she knew it could very well could be a curse. Selene, like all gods in mythology, had cursed people before.

Webby dashed up the hill. She was this close to learning the truth. She turned back to look at Dewey just in time to see the stone crash closed, leaving her in the garden, and Dewey stuck in the temple.

“Dewey!” she called out, but it was no use. Half of her wanted to find a way to open the door and let him through. But, she didn’t know when a chance like this would come along again. She needed to take advantage of this opportunity, had to know the truth, now. 

So with hesitation, she continued down the path.

The room was dimly lit, yet bathed in a soft blue light. The gentle sound of falling water could be heard, and the foliage was lush and dark green.

“HA! Gotcha!” out of the blue, a dark shape flew above their heads and landed in front of them.

It was a tall, thin bird, dressed all in light blue.

“Hey, you’re not Della.” she said, pointing out the obvious.

“Selene, goddess of the moon? You know Della?” Webby asked, this was it. She would finally know what happened to her father.

“Oh Della? Of course I know her, I heard she was back, so I left that cryptic message on the door so I could surprise her here. It usually does the trick. You know this reminds of this one time where… ”

In that moment Webby developed a special hatred for people who answered yes or no questions with long winded explanations. Her hand began to shake, but she clenched her fist, trying her best to hold in her anger. 

Webby had always had problems with her temper. It had been an issue for as long as she could remember,and she had tried to get it under control over the years, but it wasn’t entirely successful. Certain things just went to fuel her rage, and after a while she would explode, destroying anyone and anything in her way. 

“Selene I need to know where your spear is.” Webby cut her off mid-story. She was incredibly impatient, she didn’t care why a Greek goddess wanted to play a prank on her aunt, she came here for one reason only. 

“You mean the sphere of Selene?” Selene asked, conjuring a glowing blue orb

“NO! The Spear of Selene. Where have you hidden it! Tell me where it is!” Webby burst filled with rage, tackling the tall bird to the ground and holding her fists up threateningly. The constant setbacks in this entire search for her dad were getting to her. It seemed almost as if no one knew what had happened to her dad, there was no information, no clues, nothing. All she wanted to know was who her father was, but it was an impossible task. It bothered her, and when things bothered Webby, they were channeled straight to her anger. And there was only so much anger and frustration she could bottle up before she exploded.

Webby opened her beak to question Selene more. However, she didn’t have the chance to interrogate the goddess further, as a harsh azure light lifted her off of the ground, and held her a few feet above the floor. She flailed her limbs, and yelled all the profanities she knew (very few), but it was no use, she was rendered immobile.

Selene got back to her feet, chuckling, her eyes flickering a dangerous white hot blue. “You FOOL! You dare try to challenge a goddess, weak mortal?” she laughed menacingly. 

However this only served to anger Webby more. She thought this was funny, did she? Well Webby would show her what for, if only this stupid blue glow would let her go.

“What did you do to my father?!” Webby yelled out, her mind coming to a conclusion. Perhaps it was the gods of olympus that were to blame for her dad’s disappearance. They were known all throughout legend to ‘dispose of’ people and heroes they considered threats to their power. Maybe her dad was one such hero, and they got rid of him too.

“Your father?” a look of realization came over Selene’s features, replacing her intimidating stare “Of course! I’ve only seen that kind of unbridled rage once before. You’re Donald’s kid, aren’t you?” Selene said, and the blue glow subsided, both in the goddess’s eyes and around Webby, and she dropped to the ground.

Webby landed, and took a deep breath, she couldn’t afford to lose control of her emotions again. Not when she still had answers to receive.

“Yes, I am. Where is he? What happened to him? What does it have to do with the Spear of Selene?” Webby asked, bolting out one question after the next.

“I don’t know-” Selene began

“You don’t know! It’s your spear!” Webby cried out, her voice higher than normal. She forced herself to stop talking and to not go on a tangent, and took another deep breath. 

“As I was saying, I don’t know what happened to Donald, I haven’t seen him in years. As for this spear business, I’ve never owned a spear, so I have no idea what the Spear of Selene is.” 

“Great, so I’m back to square one. I know absolutely nothing, I have absolutely no clues. This was my one lead, and now I’ve got nothing.” Webby sighed, this search had gone nowhere.

“Well, maybe not nothing.” Selene said, holding out the sphere in front of both of them.

“Donald was daring, and a true hero, if a little quick to anger, but most of all, he loved his family more than anything.” The orb showed flashes of the past, scenes of her father fighting off gladiator skeletons, charging the minotaur, dueling gods, and slaying the chimera, all while saving his uncle and sister from countless dangers. Donald Duck, the hero, the protector, the most daring adventurer of all time.

“Here, it’s not a spear, but it might just lead you to what you desire most.” Selene said kindly, handing over the sphere. “Don’t give up young duck, your father never did.”

They walked to the door and it slid open once more with a simple flick of Selene’s wrist. To reveal Dewey, who looked like he had been banging on the door, his eyes were noticeably tinted red. 

“Webby!? You’re alive!” Dewey exclaimed, pulling her into a hug.

“Of course I’m alive.” She said with false bravado. It filled her with sadness to see her cousin in such a way, and she hugged him tightly, a silent apology.

“Thank you Selene. Sorry for, you know attacking you and all that.” Webby said, breaking apart from her cousin in order to face the goddess. 

“Anything for my friend's kid. Now go, no doubt your aunt will be waiting for you.” Selene softly commanded.

“Oh, I can’t believe I choked on the very last challenge.” Scrooge said dryly, dropping a bocce ball. Such was the way of the party gods, one moment you were being mind-controlled into trying to kill your family, the next you’re playing beach games.

“Yes, I win. I finally win!” Zeus celebrated, pointing towards the sky, streams of lightning shooting from his fingertips, bringing down the electric dome that had previously imprisoned them.

Out of nowhere, the other two of her kids appeared.

“Mom? What’s going on?” Dewey asked.

“No time, we have to get out of here before Zeus changes his mind.” Scrooge said, Huey and Louie in tow.

They rushed to the plane, Webby carefully stepping over the bocce green.

Only to find Launchpad surrounded by scraps of metal, holding a single screw.

“Alright, I think I found the problem.” he said.

“Of course.” Della said, and facepalmed. This day just got worse and worse, didn’t it.


	13. The Legend of Toth-Ra

Louie was getting real tired of these treasure hunts. It was all dust and history and work, and at the end of it all, he didn’t even get to keep any of the treasure. But, worse than that, it separated him from his siblings. All throughout their childhood, the four ducks were inseparable, they did everything together. But now it felt like they were drifting apart, especially Webby. Huey spent more time with the Junior Woodchucks, and researching upcoming adventures, Dewey spent all his time chasing after mysteries, and had his own web series, which was sorta weird, and when Webby wasn’t at the money bin archives (which was most of the time these days) she was hanging out with Lena. Hell, even his own mother spent far less time with them than she did before. And the only time Scrooge paid attention to him was when he was in trouble, or when he dared try to take any amount of money from him.

“This is it kids. The ancient tomb of Toth-Ra, I’ve been searching for it for centuries.” Scrooge said only to be interrupted by Launchpad’s chewing.

“Launchpad, this is the last of the lost pyramids, show some respect.” 

“Sorry Mr. McDee,” Launchpad apologized, but pulled out another burrito out of his coat as soon as Scrooge looked away.

“Whoah, do you think there’ll be, like, an army of mummies waiting for us.” Dewey asked, excitement evident in his voice.

“Unlikely, mummification was an expensive process, and...Toth-Ra was rich, I bet there’s at least six.” Huey said, seeing the crestfallen look on Dewey’s face.

“How rich we talking?” Louie interjected himself between his brothers. He had decided to embrace his identity of the evil triplet, the one that would gladly sacrifice other’s safety for a few bucks. It was easier that way. So that whenever his family would ignore him for days at a time, Louie could pretend that it was because of his actions, that it was something that he had control over. 

“Toth-Ra’s treasure room was said to be the largest in the entirety of Egypt.” Huey said, “So I would expect to find, gold, jewels, and all sorts of artifacts.”

“Not to mention traps!” Webby contributed excitedly.

“That’s right Webbigail, so everyone, be on your guard.” Scrooge warned

“What? You said this was going to be a simple treasure run.” Louie complained.

“It is,” Scrooge protested defensively “but even a simple treasure run can be dangerous.” he pushed a stone door open with his cane.

“Well that was anticlim-” Dewey began, only to be cut off as a trapdoor under them opened.

“AHHHHHHH!!!” Louie screamed as they fell, and slid down a smooth stone chute. He landed hard on the stone floor. “Ugh, what’s going on?” Louie asked rubbing his head, his vision was swimming and all he could see was the shine of torchlight reflecting... was that gold?

His vision cleared, and he saw that he was indeed lying on the hard ground surrounded by piles of gold, and gems.

“Louie, are you alright, you landed on your head.” Webby’s voice called out.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Where do you think we are?” he asked, the room seemed fairly empty of any distinct features, with only one exit, yet filled to the brim with treasure.

“Well, I would say Toth-Ra’s treasure room, but if this were it, he would be here.” Webby pointed out.

“Do you think this is a back-up treasure room?” Louie asked. Because if this was a secondary treasure room, than he couldn’t wait to see the main one. 

“I don’t really know.” Webby confessed, looking at the hieroglyphs inscribed on the wall. 

“Do you have any idea what it says?” he asked.

“Hmn,” Webby pulled out a notebook, consulting it. “It says, ‘To those who serve the Pharaoh Toth-Ra, he brings golden reward, but beware all who cross him.’ and I can’t translate that last glyph. No, wait a second, it matches that symbol in the middle of the floor, so I think as long as we don’t cross that, we should be fine.”

“Jeez, I wasn’t expecting you to actually know. Since when can you read hieroglyphics?” Louie asked, this was exactly what he was talking about, when did his cousin learn any language other than english.

“Well, I figured it would be a good idea to learn how to read ancient languages, for when we go to tombs like this. Besides, I was in the archives anyway, so I figured I’d might as well try to learn.” Webby explained.

“Yeah, why are you at the archives all the time anyhow?” Louie asked, hoping to glean at least some information on what his pseudo-sister was doing these days.

“Ummm, research. Yeah, research.” Webby said,uncertain flashing him a smile.

“Whatever,” Louie sighed,

“Wait, Louie, look at this!” she said, picking up a blue gem.

“What is it?” he asked, still annoyed at her dodging his question, but intrigued.

“It can’t be.” Webby said, eyes wide “The Sapphire of Souls.”

“The what?” Louie asked, he had been spending his free time recently to study specific ancient treasures, but the sapphire of souls was not a name he recognized.

“The Sapphire of Souls was said to reflect your deepest desires, it must be one of the most sought after items of all time, I bet this is what Scrooge was after most of all.” Webby explained, as she handed it to him.

“Your deepest desires, huh?” Louie knew exactly what that was, he wanted him and his siblings to be as close as they were before they joined their uncle in his mansion. 

He stared into it, and a reflection of himself appeared, but the reflection seemed… distorted in a way. The reflection itself was perfect, but the face that he sported, it looked, twisted, it was a face that would throw you off a building the second it could benefit him, and not think twice about it.

“Yes, your deepest darkest desire.” the Echo said, its voice was like Louie’s, deeper and sinister.

“Did you hear that?” he asked, 

“Hear what?” Webby asked, confirming Louie’s fears. Great. Just great, the gem had a direct link to his mind.

“Well of course I do I’m, well, you.” the Echo spoke again. “Which is how I know exactly what your deepest desire is, would you like to know? Oh, of course you already know, you’re simply lying to yourself. Well, allow me to shatter that lie. Your deepest, darkest desire is to be just like our Uncle Scrooge, rich and utterly alone.”

“That’s not true.” Louie hissed, but he was unsure at best. He decided to ignore the stupid gem for the time being, shoving it in his hoodie pocket.

He tried to focus on the treasure, picking out a khopesh, helping Webby sort the more famous treasures out from the regular gold. But the draw of the jewel was too great, and Louie fished it out of his pocket, staring into it once more.

“You’re back.” the Echo noted.

“Yeah, yeah. Now tell me, why would I want to be alone, that doesn’t make any sense?” he questioned.

“Doesn’t it though? You want to be rich, but you don’t want to face the consequences of such a concept. That being, who you have to sacrifice to do it. Therefore, the easiest solution is to be alone, that’s how Scrooge did it, that’s how they all do it, and that’s how you’ll do it.” the Echo explained, 

“No, I won’t, I refuse to give up my family.” Louie said boldly.

“See, that’s what they all say, at least at first. But don’t you see? It’s already begun, you’re separating yourself further, and further from them, and they’ve noticed. It’s only a matter of time before they give up on you completely. Before your own family turns their backs on you, and then you’ll be all alone.” the Echo smiled sinisterly “I shall be your only companion-” Louie shoved the jewel back in his pocket.

It was time he faced this problem head on. 

“Webby? Do you thi-” but before he could ask her what she thought, a blinding light came from the other side of the seal. From it lowered a massive golden throne, on it sat a massive mummy. Toth-Ra himself.

“Who dares disturb my chamber!” he bellowed, his voice was deep and it echoed around the room.

“I-I’m Webby.” Webby said nervously, the two standing close to one another. 

“You have trespassed! Now come forth so I may smite you!” the Toth-Ra said, but when his arm moved, Louie heard the creak of wood and saw the stick propping it up. 

“No, you come over here, and do it yourself.” Louie said defiantly, knowing full well that the mummy could do nothing.

“Louie, why are you challenging the all powerful sun god-king?” Webby hissed under her breath. 

“Come on don’t you get it Webby, it’s not a prophecy, it’s not a threat, it’s just a con.” Louie said, confidently strolling behind the throne.

“No, get away from there. I am commanding that priest to control me with my awesome pharaoh powers.” the deep voice still reverberated around the room, but this time it sounded more panicked, and sure enough, when they went behind the throne, there stood a bird controlling the corpse. 

“Who are you?” Webby questioned.

“I am Sabaf, the descendant of the original guard of Toth-Ra. He was sworn to protect Toth-Ra until he awoke, but he never did, so my family constructed this rig so that the people could continue to have faith in the pharoah.” Sabaf explained

“And so that you could benefit, I mean being the voice of Toth-Ra has to have its perks. After all, it doesn’t seem like you’re exactly starving.” Louie said, gesturing to the guards rather heavy-set build. 

“Yes...however, no one can know the secret of the guards. I’m afraid you’ll have to die.” the overweight bird said, drawing a spear.

“You had to provoke him didn’t you?” Webby asked rhetorically under her breath.

“Oh, and what’s that supposed to mean?” Louie demanded as he drew the khopesh he strapped to his back, and blocked a blow from the spear.  
“It means that whenever you ‘pull a Louie’ everything gets worse! It’s not like it was always like this Louie.” Webby dodged a strike from the guard, “You used to be scheming, yeah, but ever since we moved in with Scrooge, you have gone to greater and greater lengths just for gold, don’t act like I don’t know about the gold you’ve been pilfering from our adventures. And every time you’re at the house, you do nothing! You can’t just barely put any effort into these adventures and them profit off of them! You need to take a serious look back and reconsider what your doing with your life.” 

Louie narrowly avoided another jab from the guard, and slashed back, only for the guard to block with his spear.

“How would you know what I’m doing with my life, you’re never in it!” Louie snapped “You’re always off somewhere else, you all are. Huey and Dewey are always off with their new friends, Scrooge works, and I don’t even know what mom does, but you are the worst of all. I haven’t seen you if it isn’t ‘oh I’m going to the money bin’ or ‘oh I’m going over to Lena’s don’t wait up’ you abandon us, abandon me in favor of anything else.” he mocked bitterly and lashed out at the guard again, this time drawing blood.

It was just the guards leg, and he was trying to kill them, but still the blood gushing out of the birds thigh made Louie sick to his stomach. Sabaf dropped his spear to the ground with a clatter, and fell to the ground, holding onto the place where he was cut, and crying in pain. But worse of all, by far was the look that Webby gave him, it was one of horror,and shock at what he just did. The khopesh hit the stone floor with a clang, the gold stained red. 

“You really are the evil triplet, aren’t you?” she accused, her stare having hardened into one of anger.

He looked down at his own hands and saw that they were shaking. Louie walked away as Webby started to treat the bird’s injury, he couldn’t bear to be around her. He dug into his pocket and found what he was looking for, the blue of the gem never seemed more inviting. He stared into it, and found once more the twisted Echo, but something seemed slightly different about it, it seemed oddly sympathetic.

“I tried. I tried to warn you that they would turn away from you.” the Echo said, almost remorsefully.

“Yeah, you were right.” Louie confessed, wiping away the tears that were building in his eyes.  
“Rest assured though, that I will never turn my back on you.” the Echo said sincerely “but I need something done first.” 

“You’re my reflection in a rock, what do you need?” Louie asked, curious.

“No, the form I am taking is that of reflection, I am much more, or at least I was, until hundreds of years ago I was imprisoned by a trio of my enemies. They took my very essence and put it into this gem. But you can reverse it, just smash the jewel against the seal in the middle of the room. Please Louie, you’re my only chance at freedom.” the Echo pleaded.

“All right, all right. It’s the least I can do.” Louie agreed, stepping past the now bandaged guard, and Webby. 

“Haven’t you done enough?” Webby asked scathingly as he got close. Louie simply set his jaw and raised his hand in the air, and threw the sapphire down. It hit the floor with a smash, and a blinding yellow light came first from the shards of the gem, and then from the seal around it.

Suddenly, the massive corpse on the throne moved, its eyes glowing the same yellow. It rose to its feet and snapped off all the wooden supports holding it down.

“What did you do!” Webby demanded,

“I have no idea!” Louie defended,

“Do you not? Perhaps you are duller than I thought, Louie.” the corpse said, it’s voice was deep, yet familiar. 

“The Sapphire of Souls?” Louie asked, “The essence trapped in the gem, it was Toth-Ra?”

“Now you understand.” Toth-Ra nodded,

“The Sapphire of Souls, Louie that isn’t real, I made that up to prank you, it was just some ordinary sapphire.” Webby explained, dragging the guard away from the massive pharoah.

In response Toth-Ra laughed “Indeed, yet you happened to choose the very sapphire I’ve been trapped in for a millennium. Now, I really must thank you, Louie, you have served me well, and so I bring you what you desire most. Your golden reward.” Toth-Ra, said grabbing a large handful of gold coins and placing them in front of the green-clad duck.

“Now, my people have lost their way. At this very moment, they plot against me, all because of your deceit.” Toth-Ra took a few powerful strides toward the guard, he picked him up, but noticed his gashed thigh and laughed again. “My loyal servant indeed! Come mighty Louie, reclaim your weapon.” he said, gesturing to the bloodstained khopesh, and Louie knew that he didn’t exactly have a choice if he wanted to live, so he edged over to where the sword was lying, and strapped it back on his back. 

“Good, you shall be a better guard than this whole line of fools ever was.” Toth-Ra said approvingly, before turning back to the guard that was still trapped in his grip, Toth-Ra’s eyes glowed a brighter yellow. There was a flash of light, and the guard was reduced to a skeleton.

“As for you,” Toth-Ra addressed Webby, “either serve faithfully, or die.”

“Oh mighty Toth-Ra, we are but your humble servants.” Webby said with conviction, getting down on one knee. But, in a flash, she had a dagger in her hand, and she slashed at his knee. It did nothing but cut through bandages.

“Fool, you have chosen death.” Toth-Ra said, picking her up by the front of her shirt, his eyes heated once more.

“NO! Webby!” Louie exclaimed and fast as lightning, drew his khopesh, and slashed at Toth-Ra’s hand, with very little effect.

In response, the king-god only chuckled darkly, “Your loyalty is admirable, Louie, yet misplaced, is this not the same sister of yours that abandons you in favor of her friend, the same one who values the mystery more than she values you, and the sister that believes you to be evil? I offer a deal, your servitude in exchange for riches, power. You put your life on the line for your family. And what does your family offer in return? Nothing. Less than nothing. They put you in danger and then reprimand you. Turn your back on these fools, and serve me eternally at my right hand.” Toth-Ra offered

“What you say is true Toth-Ra, and perhaps my family will turn their backs on me one day, but you know what? I refuse to turn my back on them.” with that, Louie took his already drawn sword and went for his other hand, and it was cleaved cleanly off.

“You dare defy the will of Toth-Ra?” he bellowed, enraged, and lasers shot from his eyes, melting the gold right were Louie was standing just a second earlier.

“Webby?” he asked, she knocked him out of the way of the sun king-god’s wrath.

“Listen Louie, I’m really sorry, I never meant to-”

“Not the time Webbs!” Louie shouted as he pulled them behind a pile of treasure as another shot of white hot yellow light blasted the spot where they were standing. Toth-Ra turned, his back was to them, Louie mimed to Webby that they stab him in the back, and she nodded.

They crept out from behind the gold and raised their weapons ready to strike, but a scarab beetle appeared and seemed to communicate to Toth-Ra, as he turned, and blasted the stones where they were a second previously. Toth-Ra seemed tired of playing cat and mouse however, and started to look behind every pile of treasure. 

Webby and Louie moved constantly keeping out of sight of him and his beetles. This had to end, they couldn't hide forever.  
“Okay, I have a plan, Webbs, I’ll distract him, you get behind him, and stab him in the back.” Louie explained quickly, before coming out of the spot they were hiding behind. 

He leapt into the gold piles, swimming through the coins as smoothly as Scrooge did, until he was right behind the god-king.

He intentionally rustled the coins, causing the mummy to turn and lean down.  
“Toth-Ra, ol buddy, ol pal, ol friend, can we talk about this?” he popped out of the gold, and swung with his sword, cutting off the king’s beard.

“You cannot win Louie, I have infinite power, and what do you have? A piece of scrap metal.” Toth-Ra scoffed and picked up Louie by his neck choking him.

“Yeah, but do you know what you don’t have Toth-Ra? A family.” Louie said,gasping for air.

Webby stabbed the back of his knee, and Toth-Ra roared in pain. Loosening his grip on Louie enough for him to swing the khopesh up cutting off the pharaoh's other hand.

He dropped to the ground and called out “Webby, give me a leg up!”

She slid between the bird’s legs and he ran toward her, then using her hands as a springboard, he leapt up and sliced through his neck.

Toth-Ra’s head hit the floor with a thud.

But he wasn’t quite dead. As the skull laughed maniacally, its eyes still glowing.

“They will turn their backs on you. They hold secrets from you, and they will betray you. They all will. Every. Single. One of them. Y-”

Louie stabbed the khopesh down through the skull. “No, they won’t betray me, and I won’t betray them.” 

Just as this happened, a flood of people came through the door, led by his Uncle Scrooge.

“Pharaoh Toth-Ra, your people demand freedom!” Scrooge exclaimed.

“Well asking him seems redundant at this point.” Louie said, holding up the curved sword with the skull skewered on it.

“Louie? You-” Scrooge began, only to be tackled by his nephew and niece.

“Uncle Scrooge!” they both exclaimed, hugging him tightly.

“Are you two alright?” their uncle asked, holding them at arm’s length and looking them up and down.

“We’re alright Uncle Scrooge.” Louie reassured, although if he was honest, he was pretty sure his neck was bruised badly.

“Umm, Uncle Scrooge, Louie? We’re kind’ve having a problem over here.” Huey informed them.

“Llewellyn Duck!” the people dressed as mummies were chanting.

“What’s going on? And who told them my full name!” Louie asked Dewey.

“Oh, well you killed their all powerful dictator god-king, which I think makes you their new ruler. And me, I thought Pharoah Llewellyn sounded better than Louie.” Dewey explained.

“Indeed, by ancient tradition, Llewellyn Duck is our new ruler for besting Toth-Ra in combat.” a tan jackal came forward and kneeled, and the rest of the people, besides his family, followed suit. 

“Umm, well, as your new ruler.” Louie thought of all he could do with a hundred loyal followers, but then dismissed the thought, Toth-Ra was wrong about him and he would prove it, he smiled an idea coming to his mind.

“As your new ruler, I shall give you what you seek. Be free my people, take the treasure from this chamber and start your lives anew in the outside world. Now, I bid you, stand, I am no longer your ruler, from now on, you are your own.” Louie said with confidence.

“Thank you, Llewelyn Duck,” the jackal thanked before turning to her people. “To burritos!” she shouted, and was met with yelling and cheering.

“Burritos?” Louie asked as his family came up to him and the mummies made themselves busy by gathering up the treasure.

“You don’t want to know.” Scrooge assured, before a smile came to his features. “I’m proud of you lad, giving up that power, I’m sure it was no easy decision.”

“Actually, it was, maybe I’m not quite the evil triplet after all.” he said nonchalantly, but Webby knew what that comment meant, and interjected.

“Of course you aren’t, because there’s no such thing as the evil triplet.” she said softly, reassuring him.

“Thanks Webbs, I couldn’t beat Toth-Ra without you.” 

“Of course, that’s what’s family for. But Louie, I’m sorry if it seems that I’ve been distant lately, I’ve just had a lot on my mind.” Webby apologized “It’s clear that we all need to spend more time around each other, I mean, when did you learn to swim through money!”

Louie smiled, they weren’t a perfect family, but they were his family, and he despite what Toth-Ra says, he wouldn’t give them up for the world.


	14. The Seige of The Spear of Selene

Donald doesn’t know how they found him. 

He didn’t know how long he was asleep for, but when he woke, he found himself surrounded by moonlanders, at least fifty of them were marching toward his ship.

But, he could just fire up the ship and leave, no one would die, he had the manual, and…

That’s when he saw it.

A golden ship, identical to the Spear of Selene flew overhead. It was too late, they had already made ships. 

He considered for a fleeting moment, blasting off from the planet anyway, postponing the fight until later. But it was only a moment, he couldn’t bring an interplanetary war to Duckburg, he had to stop it now. However, for the moment, it seemed the only priority was to survive, the moonlanders had him surrounded for the moment, and it was clear to anyone what they were there to do. 

They were there to kill him.

They hadn’t circled around the ship yet, and Donald used this to his advantage. There was a leader there, giving orders.

Donald shot him first.

However, the rest of the soldiers stood their ground, and returned fire. These were not the cowardly moonlanders Donald had faced in the past, these were well-trained battle ready warriors. And they were out for his blood. 

He dodged the multitude of blaster shots, and returned with fire from his own double dueling guns. He leapt out of the door of the Spear and fell slowly due to the lower gravity, shooting as many of the moonlanders as possible, while beams of yellow plasma traveled through the air all around him. 

His feet touched the ground, well more accurately, they touched the corpse of a moonlander, but nonetheless he was surrounded by aliens. Quick as lightning, he holstered one of the blasters, and drew his golden sword. He turned in circles, shooting moonlanders, slashing his sword at the closer ones, it was complete anarchy, and he had no rhyme nor reason to his attacks, he took off limbs, heads, and sliced at whatever else. His finger was sore from pulling the trigger rapidly, as he killed as many as he could. Soon enough, he was surrounded only by silence and corpses.

He didn’t want anything like this to happen again, but he couldn’t afford to die, not until he had held his kid at least once. 

It was time for this war to end, he knew that surely enough, but he saw another battalion of troops on the horizon. 

It had been like that for the last, however long it was, every time he defeated a battalion of troops another would already be on its way toward his ship. Donald was becoming exhausted, he couldn’t hold this for much longer.

He had just killed the last of the fourth, or was it the fifth, battalion of troops. Donald can’t keep this up forever, and he was sure that General Penumbra knew that too. 

He saw another group on the edge of his vision and groaned, another group that he had to kill. He had tried to take a few moonlanders captive in order to spare their lives, but when he offered, their response was to shoot themselves. So it seemed that besides killing him, the General was also big on not having any of her soldiers be held captive.

The marching of soldiers grew louder, and Donald drew his guns, better to kill them now, than wait until they got closer. He fired off a few shots, and he could see soldiers falling, so he continued, by the time the soldiers got there, there was only a half-dozen or so left. He dispatched of them easily.

But then he saw the rest. As he was preoccupied with taking out the first battalion, another snuck up behind him, and they were in firing range.

He fired off a few shots, and saw for the first time how massive this group was, it wasn’t a few dozen, it wasn’t a hundred, it wasn’t even a thousand, there was at least a hundred-thousand soldiers, they surrounded his ship, but didn’t attack. There was a whole army there, and though their guns were aimed on him, they didn’t move. 

“Donald Duck!” a familiar female voice called out “Leave your weapons on board your ship, and I will let you live.” The army parted, making a path as the General made her way to the bottom of the Spear’s ladder.

“What reason do I have to trust you?” he called back, aiming his own gun at her forehead.

“Absolutely none.” the General smiled, “But I will point out that you will be dead before your finger ever pulls that trigger, if you don’t comply.” 

Donald looked around, and indeed, there seemed to be at least a thousand guns aimed at his head, and thousands more at the ready, so he decided to comply, dropping his weapons to the ground, he might die, but he didn’t have a choice.

He climbed down the ladder and came face to face with the General herself.

“Donald Duck, you have spilled much of my people’s blood.” the General stated in a cold detached way.

“Maybe if you stopped sending them to kill me, I’d stop killing them.” Donald retorted

“Exactly, which is why I’ve come here Donald, you see I believed you to be very little of a threat. I was mistaken, I had to bring most of the population of Tranquility here, just to subdue you. You are a true warrior, fighting for survival, it’s almost...admirable. Which is why I have come to offer you something, the invasion, it will happen, there’s nothing you can do to stop it, but you can live to see it. So this is my offer, I will let you return to Earth, then I will give you two months of your Earth time, back on your home before we strike. You will probably survive the invasion, and you will live out the rest of your days there. You will be able to hold your daughter in your arms, is that not what you want?” the General laid out.

And, not for the first time, Donald considered giving up, two months was enough time, enough time to finally reunite with his family, and enough time to prepare them for the invasion. He nodded slowly.

“I accept.” he said simply, before turning, and climbing back up the ladder. He would finally be able to go home.


	15. In Castle McDuck The Secrets Are Buried Deep (And Preferably With Demon Dogs)

“Once every five years, the mists of Scotland part to reveal the great Dismal Downs. Make no mistake, this is the greatest threat we’ve ever faced. My parents.” Scrooge said ominously.

“Why do you not like your parents?” Webby piped up, 

“Oh, Mummy’s fine, but my father Fergus is impossible. Money, success, family, it’s never enough for him. Not to mention that after decades, he still refuses to tell me anything about the treasure of The Knights Templar.”

“The what?” Dewey asked,

“Our ancestor, Simon McDuck was the accountant to the legendary Knights Templar, he was said to have hidden the treasure, but only the lord of the castle knows where it is. And he won’t tell me unless he deems me worthy, and in fifty years, such a thing is yet to happen.” Scrooge explained,

“I’m still just amazed that your parents are still alive.” Huey commented,

“Yes, well when I rebuilt the ancestral family home, I may or may not have purchased some discount druid stones that granted them immortality.” Scrooge clarified, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“Uh, Mr. McDee? We’re here.” Launchpad announced, managing to not crash the car.

“Hey! Jettison that jalopy from my driveway this instant you deadbeat!” a new voice came from outside, and they piled out of the car to see a gruff looking duck with his arms crossed, and a kinder duck clasping her hands together.

“Huey, Dewey, Louie, Webby, meet my parents.” Scrooge introduced, and her great grandmother came forward, picking him up.

“Oh, Scroggie!” she exclaimed, shaking him about.

“Son.” Scrooge’s father acknowledged

“And the wee bairns! There haven’t been children in Castle McDuck for at least twenty years.” Downy said, gathering all four of them in a bone-powderizing hug.

“So this is the actual home of Clan McDuck?” Webby asked, after finally being released by her great-grandmother’s grip. 

“Aye lass, this castle is imbued with all the secrets and mysteries of all of your ancestors.” she explained.

“Dewey, there has got to be something here about my dad.” Webby whispered once the elderly duck was out of earshot, he nodded in response and stepped back up to the duck.

“Say, why don’t you take us on a tour of the castle, tell us about the family history, old history, especially new history.” Dewey suggested, and Huey and Louie groaned, hearing Downy’s excited confirmation. 

A short time later and they were all going through the halls, looking at old portraits and ancient artifacts.

“Now this here is of Fergus’s father, ‘Dirty’ Dingus McDuck,” Downy explained, pointing to a portrait of a duck with a pickaxe, “And this is of Murdock McDuck, the first to patent the longbow, he made a fortune selling them to the English army, while charging extra for the arrows of course. So, he built a series of tunnels under the castle, to hide the fortune, and summoned a demon dog to guard it, at least that’s what the legends say.”

“Sounds like my kinda guy.” Louie commented, 

“Sir Swamphole McDuck was famous for hoarding treasure.” Downy continued 

“Sound familiar?” Fergus asked, passive aggressive to say the least. Father and son had been growling at each other throughout the entire tour, making it hard for Webby to focus if any of the information her great-grandmother was sharing was of any value.

“That’s it, arm wrestling match, right now!” Scrooge challenged, dragging over a small table, and Downy stopped, most likely to try and diffuse the situation. 

Webby knew her chance when she saw it, and slipped away, dragging Dewey with her. They had been there for three hours, and they still hadn’t even breached the 1800’s in chronological terms. So it was safe to assume that it would take a similarly ridiculous amount of time to get Downy to start talking about Webby’s dad. And honestly? Webby was not patient enough for that.

The hallway seemed to go in chronological order when it came to the family tree. So logically, all she had to do was go to the very end of the hall. 

“Hey! I think she was just about to talk about our grandparents, that might have been interesting!” Dewey protested as he was dragged down the hall, for whatever reason the search for her dad had Dewey more interested in the entire family tree. 

“Do you want to help me or not?” Webby asked simply and harshly, her low reserve of patience had practically run dry during her time with Downy. And she definitely didn’t have patience for this.

“I do.” Dewey conceded,

“Alright then. Help me find anything to do with my dad.” Webby instructed, pulling the Sphere of Selene out of her bag, and watching as it showed the same footage of her father that she had seen a million times over. Ever since she had gotten the sphere from Ithaquak, she had been hesitant to leave it during the family’s adventures, in fear that Mrs. B or Duckworth would find it, and tell her Uncle Scrooge about it.

“What about this one?” Dewey asked, pointing to a portrait of a duckling in a blue sailor suit and a red bow tie. 

“Maybe... I don’t know.” Webby considered. It certainly matched the other photos she had seen of her father, but it was hard to know for certain.

“Umm, Webby? It looks like we might have a bit more trouble snooping around than usual.”

“What kind of trouble?” Webby asked, she didn’t see anything askance.

“Triplet trouble.” Dewey answered dryly just as the other two rounded the corner and came down the hall,

“What are you two doing?” Huey asked curiously

“Trying to get away from that snore-fest, obviously.” Dewey said,

“You mean the tour that you suggested?” Louie asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

“Well it was a castle, I expected more suits of armor and swords, and less paintings and boring stories.” Dewey said, providing a fairly good cover story.

“Who’s this?” Huey asked, taking notice of the portrait.

“No idea.” Dewey responded honestly,

Without warning, the painting fell off the wall, and Webby hastened to pick it up, but then she saw the note attached to the back.

“What’s that?” Louie asked, having spotted the note as well.

“If lost crown is what you seek, then venture below and follow your beak. To ensure the arrow miss its mark, pluck a ditty on an ark. Penetrate the door bifold, with only the purest key of gold. Face your fate, confront your doom.” Webby read aloud, having detached the note from the painting.

“That looks like mom’s handwriting.” Huey observed, looking over her shoulder.

“Why would mom write a riddle and put it behind a painting?” Louie asked.

“Kids!” Downy called from down the hall.

“Distract her, we’ll put back the painting.” Webby commanded, and Dewey and Louie ran back down the hall, while her and Huey each took a side of the painting, and hung it back up. 

“Well, we lost Dewey.” Louie announced, running back toward them.

“What do you mean?” Huey asked

“Our great-grandmother got to him, dragged him away, something about a family dinner. Now what’s this about a crown?” Louie asked,

“Like a king’s crown?” Huey suggested

“Or crown as in oldsy-timesy money. This could lead to the Knight’s Templar treasure!” Louie said excitedly. However Webby had things other than money on her mind.  
If this was written by her aunt, and she put it on the back of a painting of her dad, then was it possible that it leads to the truth of what happened to him. And if that was the case, then there was no way she could let her cousins know. She had set out to find the truth about her dad with the idea that no one would know until she had found the truth. After all, Dewey only knew because he had caught her going through Della’s stuff. She failed at that, but she could keep as many people out of it as possible.

“It’s not necessarily the treasure. I mean just because it’s a mysterious note doesn’t mean it leads to fortune.” she reasoned, appealing to Louie especially.

“No way, I want to see what mom’s note leads to.” Huey declared, while Louie was giving her the side eye, obviously suspicious. 

“I see what you’re doing. Trying to get the jump on us, get the treasure for yourself. You’re hiding something aren’t you?” Louie accused,

“What would I have to hide? What’s so important about this mystery anyway?” Webby demanded,

“Pssh, this is the Duck-McDuck family, it could range from a broken flower pot, to a mystery that could unfold the fabric of space-time as we know it. Point is that this riddle could be anything, including the Knight’s treasure.” Huey reasoned out.

“Ugh, fine.” Webby conceded, she would have to shake off the other two later.

“Now the first clue, the ‘pluck a ditty on an ark’ part. What do you think it means?” Louie asked, reading aloud from the note that he had snatched from Webby’s hand. 

Huey seemed to light up with an idea and he took the note from Louie “Certain letters are capitalized, B, A, G, are these musical notes? Play a ditty on an ark, Murdock’s bow!” he cried out in realization and ran down the hall.

Webby and Louie followed, and he plucked out the notes, and a panel slid open next to the painting. It was a torch lined stone tunnel that sloped downward.

“Well ‘venture below’ right?” Louie suggested, an edge of fear to his voice, yet he grabbed a torch off of the wall and led the way down.

“These must be one of Murdock’s crazy tunnels.” Huey commented.  
They went down a stairway and found themselves in front of a pair of double doors.

“‘Penetrate the doors bifold’ this has got to be the next clue!” Webby exclaimed

“‘With only a key of purest gold’ where are we gonna get a key?” Huey asked, before they ran into an entire pile of keys. “Oh, how are we gonna find a gold key in all this?” 

“I got an idea, how about you two go and get a metal detector, I’ll stay here and start trying keys.” Webby laid out, in an attempt to get Louie and Huey out, lest she had to try and explain what she had been doing for the past six months.

However, Louie just jumped into the pile of keys and resurfaced a second later holding a key.

“Found it!” he announced “Real gold weighs more than fool’s gold so search the bottom of the pile, then just check the luster and carat quality, and boom, pure gold key.”

Huey and Webby both gave him a look.

“What!? You like nerd stuff, I like gold.” Louie said defensively, walking over to the door and opening it.

They walked through, and found a circular room with multiple doors dotting the wall.

“The crypt of Clan McDuck.” Huey breathed out, holding aloft the torch to read the names inscribed on the openings.

“Dingus McDuck, Malcolm McDuck, Murdock McDuck, Angus McDuck, Jake McDuck, and… Donald Duck?” he read aloud, ending in confusion.

“What!? Let me see that.” Webby demanded, snatching the torch from her cousin. She held it above her head, and sure enough, plain as day was the name Donald Duck.

“No, it can’t be, all this time I’ve spent searching, and he’s dead?” Webby recoiled in shock, and the torch fell to the ground and extinguished with a clang. 

She had spent six months searching for the truth of her father’s absence, and in that time she had considered the possibility that he had passed away. But it was always a fleeting notion, one that was overpowered by the hope that she would find him one day. But the realization that he was dead, that she would never get to see her father in person hit her like a sack of bricks. She could hear the voices of her cousins asking her what was wrong, she could feel the tears rolling down her face, but she could also feel the anger rise in her chest, anger at the world, at its cruelty, at Scrooge and Della for not telling her before.

That’s when the demon dog decided to show up.

It was a fearsome creature, foam at its mouth, its eyes glowing a bright green, its fur a midnight black. 

But all Webby saw was a target, a threat. She could barely feel anything as she picked up the metal torch, limbs shaking, world turning red, her vision tunneling and focusing on the soon-to-be victim of her rage.

She roared, and held her ground, holding the torch like a baseball bat as the creature snarled in return, and leapt towards her. She swung the torch across the hound’s face in a devastating blow. It was knocked several feet away, but came back for more, and Webby was all too happy to oblige. It ran at her again, and this time she mustered up all of her rage, and gathered it all into one cataclysmic strike square on the top of its head. It fell to the ground, whining, and disappeared in a puff of green smoke.

“Webby?” Huey asked hesitantly, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, who’s Donald Duck anyhow?” Louie asked

Webby’s tears still fell down onto the ground, and the torch once again met the floor, it was time for them to know. It didn’t matter anymore, none of it did. If her dad was dead then there was no reason for them not to know the truth.

“H-he was my dad.” she said shaky yet toneless voice.

“What!?” the two exclaimed simultaneously.

“Six months ago, I found a painting of him, Della, and Scrooge, and ever since I’ve been trying to figure out what happened to him. I crashed the Sunchaser, combed the archives countless times, questioned every family member I could get my hands on, and talked to the goddess Selene, but every clue has only led to more mystery, until now.” Webby explained, putting her hand on the door to the room that contained her father’s coffin. She felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Huey with Louie right next to him.

“Hold it, back it up a minute, we had an uncle, that you knew about and you kept that from us!?” Louie demanded,

“I’m sorry, I should have told you from the beginning, but I wanted to find out by myself, I needed to know the truth.” Webby apologized

“We all deserve to know the truth, none of us knew anything about your dad, all you had to do was ask and we would have helped you the entire way.” Huey said, gentler than Louie’s accusations.

“We deserved to help you. Webby this is your dad, this is important, you shouldn’t- no you can’t keep that from us.” Louie scolded

“You’re right, but it hardly matters anymore, does it?” Webby responded

“Maybe not. The last line of the riddle ‘face your fate, confront your doom’ if that painting was of your dad, than this note was made for him, from our mom, then he might not be gone after all.” Huey reasoned, and he pushed past Webby and Louie and opened the door to the crypt, There was a coffin in the middle of the room, but it was open. 

Webby followed Huey into the room and looked into the stone coffin, there was nothing there except for a blue sailor’s hat. Webby could almost laugh, this was the same type of hat that her father wore in all of the pictures she saw of him. 

“The crown, it was never gold, it was my dad’s hat. Which means that the entire riddle was all just a prank orchestrated by your mom against my dad?” Webby figured, she might actually kill her aunt for scaring her like this.

She picked up the hat from its resting place reverently, and dusted it off. Still she was grateful to Della since, for the first time, she had something that actually belonged to her father. 

“I need your help, together, we’ll find the truth once and for all. That is, if you’re willing?” Webby asked, turning to face her cousins.

“Of course.” Huey responded, adjusting his hat  
“You know I’m in.” Louie confirmed with a smirk.

“Man, this is going to be hard to explain to Dewey.” Huey commented.

“Oh, about that. Dewey already knows.” Webby admitted,

“What!”

“Come on!”

“Sorry, to be fair it was by accident.” Webby defended

“Okay, let's begin." Huey started, pulling out his JWG and a pencil. "So your dad, what do we know about him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, nobody can pull a prank in this AU without disasterous consequences.


	16. The Truth of The Spear of Selene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth finally comes out.

“Did you guys get the stuff?” Webby asked, 

“Yeah, and you’re not gonna believe this.” Louie warned, holding a duffel bag.

“Try me.” Webby deadpanned, leading the way into the Sunchaser.

They were going on vacation to Monacrow, and the whole gang was coming along, even her Aunt Della, who had saved up some vacation days from her job. But Webby was preoccupied with something else than the exotic city. 

Since about three weeks ago, she had the combined forces of all three triplets to help her find the truth about her father. And so far they were yielding result after result. But, this newest find was their biggest yet. According to Huey and Louie, they found evidence that pointed to what the Spear of Selene actually was. 

A little later, while when they were in the air and Scrooge, Della, and Launchpad were sufficiently distracted with flying the plane, Webby slipped away to a secret hatch on the side of a cargo box. Dewey and Huey had constructed it the first week of their investigation, so they could continue their research on their way to and from adventures. 

The triplets were already there waiting for her, examining the board they had constructed, connecting all the clues they had found. She put the backpack she was carrying down, and pulled out the sphere of Selene, completing their conglomeration of evidence.

“Alright, so Louie and I paid a little visit to the archives-” Huey began

“Where I sweet talked Miss Psycho-Crazy Librarian, and got her to give us these.” Louie finished, pulling a mass of paper out of his duffel bag. Most of it was in pieces, but there was one intact paper. Webby brushed the pieces to the side of the crate that served as their table, and looked at the intact paper, it was an outline of a strange looking object, along with a list of dates, with one circled, at the top it read the Spear of Selene. 

“See that date, it’s the same week we were born.” Huey pointed out,

“What do we think it is?” Webby asked, the drawing didn’t really look like anything.

“That’s what we’ve been trying to figure out, but so far we have no idea.” Dewey stated.

“Alright, what about the pieces?” Webby questioned

“I don’t know, I haven’t put it together yet, but there aren’t that many pieces, so…” Louie trailed off while putting most of the pieces together. 

Suddenly there was a crunch of metal and the plane gave a massive jolt, throwing the mostly assembled paper everywhere and knocking them off their feet.

“Kids? Are you alright?” Della’s voice rang out, and they all rushed to leave the box, getting out just in time to see her aunt come down the ladder and towards them. “Are you four okay?” she asked again, grabbing each of them one at a time and looking them up and down, searching for any injuries.

“We’re fine Aunt Della.” Webby reassured her parental figure. 

“Alright then, I’m going to see what Scrooge did, honestly Launchpad and I leave him alone for what, three seconds?” she walked away, still ranting.

“Alright, we have to figure this out quickly, everyone, back into the crate.” Webby ordered, and as quick as they emerged, they once again disappeared. 

Webby quickly picked the pieces of the photo off of the ground and reassembled them, except there was one large piece that made up the center of the image missing.

“Where’s the last piece?” she wondered aloud, looking around the crate, she found it right by the hatch, and picked it up.

The majority of the scrap of paper was dominated by Scrooge’s smiling face. She walked over and placed it with the other scraps of paper, and took a step back to analyze the completed photograph.

Was that the Spear of Selene?

She picked up the other paper just to be certain, and sure enough, it matched the rough sketch perfectly.

“What is that?” Dewey asked,

“I’m not sure, it looks to be a type of aircraft.” Huey confirmed,  
“But, what does that mean, what does it have to do with Webby’s dad?” Louie continued the questioning

“I don’t know, but I have a feeling someone on this plane does.” Webby answered, a hard look in her eye, “It’s high time for the truth to come out about what really happened to Donald Duck.” 

She grabbed the pieces of the photo and stormed out of the crate, or at least as much as one can storm when you have to crawl to get out. She made her way towards the cockpit, paper firmly gripped in her hand, her three cousins following close behind her.

“Kids. There you are.” Della appeared out of nowhere, literally picking them up one at a time and strapping them into seats, much to Webby’s annoyance.

“What’s going on?” Huey queried from his spot.

“I left your great-uncle to fly the plane for two seconds and he managed to crash it in that short of time!” she explained, yelling the last part over her shoulder, where Scrooge presumably was. “Plus it seems that he crashed us on top of a mountain, and we got to keep the plane balanced. So, it’s best if we, and by we I mean you, move around as little as possible til’ we can find a way to restart the engine.” she explained

“But-” Webby protested, 

“No excuses guys, this is way more dangerous than usual. Just don’t move.” Della ordered, walking back toward the cockpit.

Webby couldn’t believe this, she was this close to learning the truth from Scrooge, only to be stopped by her Aunt Della. To say it made her mad was a massive understatement, she was absolutely furious. Once again she can practically taste the truth, she’s so close to it, only to be stopped right before she can reach it. She was tired of it, absolutely tired of it, it had taken her months just to get together the evidence she had right now, and that was still practically nothing. She had a picture of the Spear, but didn’t know what it was, her family knew nothing, and she knew about as little about her father as she did before they moved in with Scrooge. She was tired of all the secrets, all the lies, it was time for her great-uncle to own up to whatever it was that he did.

She decided to ignore her aunt’s warning and got up from her seat, the plane creaked and groaned with every step, but Webby kept going to the cockpit. She glanced behind her to see that the triplets were doing the same, and the four made their way into the cabin.

“This is not my fault!” Scrooge defended

“How?! How is this not entirely your fault?!” Della yelled in return, “When I let the kids go with you, it’s because I assume you’re keeping them safe! Yet everytime I go with you, you just prove to me that you can't!”

“I do keep them safe. Nothing bad is going to happen!” Scrooge retorted

“I’ve heard that one before, and it didn’t end well.” Della retorted

“For the last time, the Spear of Selene was not my fault!” 

“Uncle Scrooge!” Webby called out, causing the two arguing adults to turn around

“Lass, what are you doing out of your seat!” Scrooge exclaimed, moving towards her

“Webby, I told you not to move! Now get back in your seat!” her aunt also thundered

“No, not until you tell me about the Spear of Selene, about my dad.” Webby demanded, waving the paper with the sketch of the Spear in their faces. Immediately Della’s face softened, and Scrooge’s hardened.

“Webby, this isn’t the time…” Della said softly. 

“No, you’ve kept me from the truth for the past ten years. Not anymore. Tell me, now.” Webby practically growled 

Della turned to look at Scrooge who shook his head in response, brow furrowed. She sighed, and turned back, her eyes meeting Webby’s.

“You better sit down.” she sighed, gesturing to a lawn chair, and pulling over a box.

Huey reassembled the picture on top of the box, and Webby laid down the sketch, sitting down in the chair, with the triplets crowded around the back of her seat. Della and Scrooge stood on the other side of the box, almost waiting to see who would speak first,

“His name was Donald. Together, the three of us went on all sorts of adventures for years, those were happy years. But, we had been just about everywhere, so I-I” Della choked up, tears started to fall down her face.

“So Della devised a plan to explore the greatest uncharted territory of all, outer space.” Scrooge continued, laying a hand on his niece’s shoulder “But Donald thought it was too risky, that it wasn’t worth it, after all, Della had three eggs on the way, and he had one of his own. We never knew how right he was, until…” Scrooge’s head hung low “until I built the rocket without telling him, or anyone. It was supposed to be a surprise for Della when you were hatched, but…”

“I found out, and decided to take the Spear for a test run through orbit.” Della finished, voice shaky and tears flowing freely “Donald found out, and he tried to stop me, he made me realize what I was risking by going to space. But he accidentally activated the emergency launch, and the Spear took off with him in it. I tried to coach him through bringing it back to Earth, but none of us could have predicted…”

“That cosmic storm.” Scrooge finished grimly “But we knew that a little pangalactic-precipitation wouldn’t stop him, after all he was Donald Duck! The most daring adventurer of all time, when he put his mind to it, he could do anything. So Della and I coached him through, and he was so close, until that very last bolt. I didn’t listen to him, and he was lost in the inky abyss of space. Della and I never spoke again, that is until you four showed up on my doorstep.”

The triplets and Della were sobbing, and Scrooge hung his head low, eyes misting. But while Webby felt the tears sliding down her face, all she could feel was anger. It bubbled in the pit of her stomach, and her vision clouded with a familiar red.

“Y-you killed him! Both of you!” she accused, pointing a vindictive finger at her great-uncle.

“What! No!” Scrooge immediately denied

“He warned you against building the rocket, and you did it anyway!” Huey yelled, 

“You built a crazy-dangerous super rocket for two expecting parents!” Dewey shouted

“You have no id-” Scrooge began  
“Besides, you’re the richest duck in the world! Why didn’t you send more ships up to look for him!” Louie hollered

“I spared no expense-!” Scrooge denied 

“Yeah right, cheap old Scrooge probably bailed as soon as it put a dent in his money bin.” Dewey scoffed

Accusation after accusation was slung at the scottish trillionaire, but Webby remained motionless, and silent. She wanted to be right there with her cousins, denouncing their great uncle, but she was too angry to properly form words, much less sentences. In her ten years of life, she had never felt this amount of pure raw rage, even when she found the crypt was nothing compared to this. 

Her fists and jaw were clenched tightly, 

Her hands and limbs shook, 

Her vision a pure, violent red, 

It took every ounce of her willpower not to attack the old geezer, but she was so close to unleashing her temper on the man. 

Her father had warned them not to build the Spear, and yet when they didn’t listen it was he who was lost to space. It just wasn’t fair, her father didn’t ask for this, and yet he got to suffer, she got to suffer. All because of Scrooge.

Webby wasn’t completely certain of what happened next, but suddenly she had leapt over the box and tackled Scrooge to the ground. She held the collar of his shirt in one hand and the other was brought across his face repeatedly. She was quickly pushed off by the old man and he got to his feet, but she rushed him again, jumping and landing on his back. Hitting whatever part of him she could reach. The trillionaire managed to shake her off him, but it hardly mattered, as but a second later, Webby, tackled her great uncle again, this time bringing him on top of the control panel. She brought her fists down on his face again, but this time was dragged away by a few pairs of hands.

“Webby! Webby stop!” a few voices penetrated the haze of her fury, and she recognized them as her cousins.

“Attention this is your captain speaking, we are falling!” Launchpad suddenly came over the intercom

“Wait, what!” a chorus of voices responded

The fall down the mountain was steep but thankfully short, and Launchpad managed to crash without harming anyone. 

It was like the calm before the hurricane, everyone in the plane was deadly silent. Webby, Della, and Louie were all still crying, and the other four weren’t much better. Webby had managed to calm down enough to not attack her uncle again, and finally got a good look at him. His spectacles were cracked, his top hat and cane were nowhere to be found, and one of his sleeves was half torn off, he also seemed to have a nasty bruise forming on the area around his eye. 

Webby couldn’t help but feel satisfaction at the sight.

“You.” Scrooge pointed an accusing finger at his family, although Webby had a sneaking suspicion that it was especially for her “I don’t know why I brought you into my home in the first place. After everything I do for you, you all are nothing but trouble.”


	17. The Deal

“I accept.” he said simply, before turning, and climbing back up the ladder. Giving the surroundings one last look. 

He didn’t really have a choice, according to the General, this was almost the entire population of moonlanders, and Donald believed her. There were hundreds of thousands of golden helmets shining, all surrounding his ship. He had no guarantee that the army wouldn’t shoot his ship out of the atmosphere as soon as he took off, but they could have killed him at any moment up til now, yet they didn’t. So it seemed that the General was genuine in her offer, and that Donald would finally get to go home.

He entered the cockpit of the plane, and started the takeoff sequence, it would take the engine a little while to warm up, but that was time that Donald was willing to endure.

During his wait, he thought of how his family would react when he got back. Della would probably be furious with him, and Scrooge would take it in stride, pretending like he never left in the first place. But Donald was mainly just focused on one thing. 

His daughter, he would finally get to meet his daughter. He unconsciously smiled at the thought, he wanted to know everything about her, about her life. But then the smile dropped when he remembered what circumstances he was returning on. When he remembered the upcoming war.

He would get to return to his family, yes. He would get the chance to finally be a father. But he would also be the harbinger of what was sure to be the deadliest threat that his planet would ever face.

The fact of the matter was that two months was not even close to enough time to prepare for an invasion. The moon had years to plan, to build weapons, reinforcements, ships, they had begun this plan before he even arrived at that city.

Donald had wanted to stop the invasion before it could start, because if it did begin, then there was no stopping it. The truth, the hard truth was that if Donald left, he would be dooming his entire planet. Including his daughter.

But what choice did he have?

All of his attempts to slow the moonlanders down did absolutely nothing. So what was he to do?

The only thing he could do was to go home, try to rally a defense force, enjoy what little time with his family the General had offered him.

After all, if he tried to fight the aliens here and now, he wouldn’t be able to slow down the invasion, much less stop it. And even if he did manage to stop them he would certainly die in the process.

But if he didn’t stop them, than he was sentencing the entire world to death. He was sentencing his family to death. He was sentencing his daughter to death. But if he didn’t leave, then he would never get to see his daughter, ever, and that is the last thing he wants.

But, it doesn’t matter what he wants, does it?

The Spear was ready to launch, but Donald paid it no mind.

His family no doubt thought that he was dead, his daughter thought he was dead. And the moonlanders would kill his family, he knew that for certain.

Donald didn’t want to die, but if he had to die to save his daughter, then he would die a thousand times over, without hesitation.

But he had tried to stop the construction of their fleet, he had killed their leader, their soldiers. Yet nothing he did stopped them, what hope did he have of stopping them now?

“Most of the population of Tranquility-” 

Familiar words echoed through his mind, as an idea came to him. The entirety of the General’s army, and the General herself were right outside his ship, and Donald knew what he had to do.

He walked over to the other side of the cockpit, and picked up the belt of grenades that resided there. 

Donald unhooked one from the belt, and sat the rest back down on the cool metal floor. Without an army and a General, without a majority of their population, the moon couldn’t hope to declare war.

Countless times Donald had faced the possibility of his demise, and he always faced it with anger. But now, he was finally at peace, this was the way it had to be. His thoughts strayed to his daughter for the last time, and with one last glance at the Earth, he activated the grenade. 

He closed his eye, smiling, just before the flames engulfed him, thinking of home.


	18. The Shadow War

The minute they had returned from that plane crash, Webby, Della, and the triplets had started to pack.

They were gone from the mansion by noon.

Of course, Della didn’t have a lot of money saved up, so they only had one option. They moved into her dad’s houseboat. 

Currently, Huey, Dewey, and Louie were moving boxes into the boat, where her Aunt Della was unpacking them. As for Webby though, she was ‘over at Lena’s house.’ At least that’s what she told her guardian.

In all honesty, Webby didn’t actually knew where her best friend lived. So instead, she was down by the beach. Watching as the waves rose and lapped against the soft, yet cold sand. 

Sitting next to her was the sphere of Selene and her dad’s hat, along with a bag of clothes that she had brought with her to convince her aunt that she really was going to a sleepover. 

She picked up the sphere and stared into it again, and watched her father perform the same heroic acts for the millionth time. After all this time hoping that she would find her father, she was almost inclined to believe that he was still alive, but no one could survive the vacuum of space for ten years, no one. 

Which was exactly why she needed to be away from her family. Scrooge and Della, they directly caused her father’s death. If they hadn’t built the Spear, than her dad would be here right now. It filled her with so much anger, that she just had to get away from them to avoid lashing out again. 

Webby just needed to get away for awhile, not just for an evening, but for a good amount of time. The question, of course being, where would she go? The only person she could think of staying with would be either Lena, or maybe her Uncle Gladstone, she knew he was in town. But Gladstone probably would just tell Della where she was and she didn’t have a way to contact Lena. Still she had to find a way…

Then out of nowhere, a massive shockwave was sent through the city, and a beam of pink light hit her square in the small of her back. The sphere of Selene tumbled into the sand and surf as her shadow suddenly sprang to life, its eyes glowing a menacing red as it flew away to join a vortex of darkness swirling around a pink bubble flying above the city toward the money bin. It stopped there, and a whirlwind of the shadows formed above the money bin. 

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to see that it was Louie calling her.

“Hello?” she answered the phone

“Umm, yeah, are you seeing this?” he asked

“Yup.” she confirmed dryly

“Alright, well our mom wants you back here pronto, is Lena there with you?” Louie asked,

“No, I was just walking back from her place.” Webby quickly lied

“Ok, just get here as fast as you can.” Louie ordered, and the line went dead

Webby picked up the sphere and the hat and shoved them in her bag, she slung the duffel over her shoulder as she ran towards the marina. Whoever, or whatever this thing was, just raised a shadow army and destroyed half of the money bin. Webby had to set aside her personal feelings for now, and help her aunt, and most likely her great-uncle.

She reached the dock of the houseboat where a strange assortment of allies were rallied. Her Aunt Della, Huey, Dewey, Louie, Launchpad, Mrs. Beakley, Huey’s science friend Fenton, Gyro, Manny, even Quackfaster was present.

“Everyone’s here. Good, that’s good.” her Aunt Della said nervously, and she didn’t sound well.

“Ok, I think we need a plan.” Louie suggested

“We need to stage a coordinated attack, but this is Magica De Spell, not a foe so easily defeated.” Mrs. Beakley pointed out.

“Who?” Huey and Dewey asked

“Magica De Spell, said to be the most powerful wielder of magic of all time. An individual who almost killed me, and Scrooge many times.” Della explained

“A sorceress? How do we fight that?” Fenton asked

“I don’t know” Della confessed “last time, we, well we got lucky.”

“Well we have to do something.” Dewey pointed out

“No, we don’t. We have to get out of here. Scrooge will figure something out.” Della insisted

“What? We can’t just leave Duckburg to fend for itself against a shadow army.” Webby protested

“She’s right, with all of our combined skills we’re probably the best chance the city has got against this Magica.” Huey brought up

“Yeah, besides if she’s after Scrooge than it’s our responsibility if she’s attacking the city.” Dewey contributed

“Plus, if she takes over Duckburg, than she might be able to conquer the whole world, no place would be safe.” Louie added

Della just sighed and rubbed her eyes in that ‘I’m going to regret this’ pose, before turning sharply to Mrs. Beakley.  
“Alright, fine, 22, do we have a plan of attack?” she asked

“Yes, or at least the beginnings of one. Gyro, Fenton, Quackfaster and Manny should approach from the bridge, in a straight forward attack. You and I will take this boat-”

“No, we are not taking this boat.” Della interjected

“Alright, well then, you and I will go with Launchpad and parachute down onto the island and sneak in through the back of the bin, and attack Magica herself. Meanwhile, Launchpad will crash the plane into the bin, hopefully disrupting whatever magical hold she has over the shadows. And Huey, Dewey-”

“No way, whatever you were about to say, forget it. The kids are staying here.” Della commanded

“Alright. Well then, everyone else, you know what to do.” Mrs. Beakley ordered, and the others filed off of the boat and towards their assigned places, with Della lingering.

“Kids, I want you to promise me that you won’t try and fight Magica, she’s dangerous, not like anything you’ve ever faced.” Della requested, getting down on one knee to look them in the eyes.

“We promise.” Dewey proclaimed, being the first to speak up

“Alright.” Della confirmed, and ran off to join Mrs. Beakley and Launchpad on the Sunchaser, and not a second later, it took off.

“So we’re totally going to the bin, right?” Dewey asked as the plane ascended into the sky.

“Pretty much, yeah.” Louie confirmed

“But how are we going to get in there?” Huey asked

“Well, we do happen to know someone who is very talented at breaking into places.” Webby said with a smirk, she knew there was only one place her friend could be.

The abandoned amphitheatre, was well, abandoned, and there were no traces of Lena being there recently.

“I don’t know Webby, are you sure Lena would be here?” Huey asked, looking around the concrete area.

“She should be.” Webby responded, also looking around.

“Hey guys, I think I found something.” Dewey beckoned them over to show that he had found a hidden hatch set in the ground.

They climbed down the ladder and found themselves in a cramped room that looked like a bedroom, with a bed, a table, and a few other odds and ends, the whole room being bathed with a black light that Louie switched on.

“Is this where Lena lives?” Huey asked, looking around

“Woof, no wonder she’s always sleeping at our house.” Louie commented

“Lena? Are you here?” Webby called out

“Hey look, a journal!” Dewey exclaimed holding up a book and leafing through it “No, nevermind, it only has this poem in it.”

“Let me see that!” Webby said, snatching the journal out of his hand and reading the poem aloud “To end the line of Clan McDuck, she sought a token of their luck, lo with the eclipse in its prime, she trap old Scrooge within his dime, but Scrooge reversed her vengeance planned, and in his dime the witch did land, yet as he struck the final blow, she cast a spy from her shadow, I walk the Earth and wield her power, to bring about McDuck’s last hour.”

“Lena is a shadow, and Magica’s spy!” Dewey exclaimed

“She betrayed us all to bring back Magica.” Huey said

Meanwhile Louie seemed to take the news the hardest, not responding at first.  
“He was right. Toth-Ra said this would happen, he said that everyone was hiding secrets. First it was Dewey and Webby, then Scrooge and Mom, now this? Who can we trust?” he asked quietly.

“She was never my friend.” Webby said, and vocalizing it made it all the more real. She felt the familiar anger bubbling inside her. She looked down at her wrist with disgust, there the friendship bracelet still sat, she cast it off and kicked it to an unknown part of the room. 

“You might not have her, but you will always have us, we’re you’re family.” Dewey laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Do you think there might be any other clues in here?” Huey rhetorically asked, snooping around and pulling back a large curtain, to reveal a conveniently drawn plan.   
“It looks like Magica used the solar eclipse to free herself from the dime, only to trap Scrooge in it.” Huey continued.

“We need to get that dime back and save Scrooge. And I know just how to dewey it.” Dewey said with a smirk.

They ascended back up onto the amphitheatre and walked toward the shoreline.

“Do I want to know where and how you got these?” Webby asked inspecting the scuba systems.

“Eh, I just took them from the sub.” Louie shrugged, strapping the oxygen tank to his back. 

“You realize that those are for emergencies, removing them from the sub violates-”

“Huey, we got to go.” Dewey reminded him, and the oldest triplet just sighed and shut up.

They waded into the water, fixing the mouthpieces to their beaks, before diving into the sea. 

The water was cold, and only got colder as they descended to the underwater lab. They entered through a broken window, and swam over to the elevator shaft. Pulling the doors open, and swimming up it.

They emerged on the ground floor of the bin.

“The elevators are out, how are we supposed to get to the top floor?” Dewey asked

“You’re not going to like it.” Louie warned, and he pointed toward the stairwell.

A couple dozen flights later and they were exhausted.

“You know, I have made this exact trip way too many times.” Louie panted, 

“Come on guys, I want to make one more stop before we get to the top.” Webby said

“Where?” 

“Why are we in the archives?” Dewey asked

“Because I need to grab something.” Webby offered, mostly ignoring her cousin’s complaints. If Magica was going to take over the building, then she had to be sure to grab something first.

She put the book back into its slot and a familiar hand slot opened. She put her hand there, this time prepared for the prick that followed.

“McDuck DNA identified.” a robotic voice rang out.

The panel slid open, and she rushed into the secret room. 

“Grab whatever you can.” she ordered, and the triplets spread out, grabbing multiple items and putting them on their persons. Huey tucked the notes into his JWG, Dewey was grabbing small trinkets, and Louie was putting the blue and gold amulet around his neck, while Webby reached for her father’s blade, a gold-hilted broadsword, when she noticed the dark shapes on the ground.

“Uh, guys? When did our shadows come back?” Huey asked, right before the shadows regained their glowing red eyes, and attacked the four. 

Webby’s shadow leapt up and dragged her down, preventing her from reaching the sword, and the two tussled on the ground. Webby glanced around and saw that all of her cousins were in similar situations, except for Louie, whose shadow seemed unable to reach him, despite its best efforts. With difficulty, Webby called out, “Louie! The sword!” and continued to fight her shadow.

Louie ran over and detached the sword from the wall, and Webby’s and the other’s shadows left them be to circle around Louie. Yet, they still couldn’t reach him, seemingly blocked by some invisible force, and Louie used this to his advantage, swinging the sword in a large arc, cutting through the shadows and making them disappear. 

“What was that!?” Huey exclaimed

“I have no idea.” Louie admitted before walking over to Webby “Here, these belong to you.” handing over the sword and the amulet. Webby put on the amulet and strapped the sword to her side, they had a witch to defeat. 

They climbed the last few flights of stairs and entered Scrooge’s office, only to be instantly surrounded by large shadows.

“Uh, guys, do we have a plan?” Huey asked nervously

“Yeah. Attack!” Webby yelled, brandishing her father’s sword, and swinging, cutting through the shadows as one cuts through butter. 

But when she glanced back, the triplets didn’t seem to be faring well against the shadows. They were doing their best to hold them off, but any attack they made seemed to just make the shadows angrier.

Webby turned to make her way back over to them, but before she could, a large white-armored foe came forward. It was Gizmoduck, or at least, his armor, and it brandished many deadly weapons. 

“Oh phooey.” Webby cursed, and gripped the blade tightly. The metal suit began to open fire, shooting lasers, and plasma bolts at her.

Se dodged to and fro, not able to stop for a second as the armor was unrelenting in its attacks. She was one step ahead for the moment, leaping out of the way just as the bolts hit the place where she had been only a micro-second before. However, she couldn’t keep this up forever, she was starting to tire out. 

She took a second to look around before dodging out of the way of another laser. She couldn’t escape, a ring of shadows had formed around the two, her cousins were wrapped up in their own problems and they had no reinforcements. So she decided to face the armored behemoth head on. 

She stopped and faced it, and the Gizmoduck stopped as well. Webby gripped the sword tightly, staring into the cold metal visor of her opponent, when suddenly, the ring of shadows was broken as Mrs. Beakley and Della burst in. They ripped apart shadows with their bare hands, and the Gizmoduck armor was distracted for only a second, but it was just enough time, as Webby lunged forward, and embedded her father’s sword straight through the helmet, splitting the visor in two, and destroying the shadow inside. The armor fell to the ground with a clang, about as useful as a pile of scrap metal. Webby turned, and saw her aunt and the housekeeper save the triplets from the shadows. 

“What are you kids doing here?!” Della demanded, fighting off the shades

“Not the time!” Webby called back, slicing through shadows, and fighting her way toward the entrance to the bin. The triplets doing similarly, dodging the attacks of the shadows and running toward the massive safe door. 

“Wait, what are you doing?! I told you to stay out of danger!” Della yelled, trying to get over to the door, where the four had convened. 

“Go kids, we’ll hold them off, now go save your uncle!” Mrs. Beakley said contradicting her aunt, getting to the door and closing it, just as the four stepped through. 

“What, no!” Della yelled, but was cut off by the closing of the massive door.

Then, a blast of bright pink light came down toward them, taking out the platform that they were standing on, sending them plummeting toward the ground. Louie assumed a swan dive position as he fell, and while the other three landed on the ground, hard, he fell through the coins as if they were water before reemerging a second later. 

“What’s the plan? And please don’t say ‘attack’ again.” Huey asked, inspecting his shoulder, that he had fallen on. 

“I’ve got one. Just like Toth-Ra.” Louie said, and he and Webby nodded at each other.  
“Alright guys, we split up, distract her in whatever way you can. Cause as much trouble as possible, then, while she’s preoccupied, we strike. Don’t hold back, don’t hesitate, do whatever you need to do, if it comes down to killing her, than do it. Now, stay alive out there.” Louie commanded, and the four gave a nod of recognition to each other, before heading toward the spire of gold and a pink bubble descended toward them. 

The other three disappeared, and Webby found herself facing the sorceress solo.

“Looking for this?” the duck asked, and Webby got her first look at the famed witch. She was tall, unnaturally tall, her eyes held a strange quality to them and her feathers were a sickly green color. 

“Give us back our uncle.” Webby demanded, holding up her father’s sword as a non-verbal threat.

“He’s trapped in the thing he loves the most- wait, us?” the witch said, confused, just as Huey appeared behind her, and tapped her on the shoulder. 

“Hey, couple questions for you.” he said, and Magica turned, to blast him with her staff. 

Webby took the opportunity to disappear from the witch’s line of sight, and hid behind a pile of gold, as she heard Huey spout off a list of questions, causing Magica to try and hit him with bolts of purple lightning.

“And how does the solar eclipse factor into all of this?” Huey asked, and Webby peaked over the pile, to see Dewey approach from behind the witch, moving to jump onto her, but she seemed to sense him, and held up her staff and Dewey was surrounded by a pink light, and was thrown into a gold pile. Magica then seized Huey with the same power, and threw him up into the air, and he landed on another gold pile, hard. Webby could see the blood leaking from his head staining the gold. But Dewey reemerged, and delivered a swift kick to her stomach.

“Ow, my ribs!” Magica cried out in pain

Dewey, proceeded to give the witch everything he had, but every one of his blows was just blocked by her magic, and Webby was tempted to go help him, the anger from the sight of Huey’s blood flooding her veins. But, before she could do anything, Dewey was seized by the same light as before, and was thrown into the air. But, unlike Huey, who had been slammed into the gold, Dewey was shot hundreds of feet into the air, and dropped.

He screamed as he fell, just before Launchpad came out of nowhere, catching Dewey midair, and the two plummeted toward the hard gold below, but Launchpad seemed to absorb most of the blow as a cloud of gold came out from the landing site.

Webby leapt over the pile of gold, and charged at Magica. Stabbing and kicking at the witch, only for everyone of her strikes to be blocked by the same energy she was using to defend herself from Dewey. 

“Ooh, someone’s mad.” Magica commented, as she was knocked back by one of Webby’s blows. 

“You sent a spy to pretend to be my friend, you trapped my uncle, you hurt my brothers, you took everything from me.” Webby responded, and unlike every other time she had lost her temper, she didn’t try to contain it, didn’t try to hold back. She gave into the overwhelming sense of fury, and her vision clouded with red.

She went in swinging with the sword again, but this time, Magica wasn’t fast enough, and the sword cut through her arm, drawing blood. Webby was unrelenting, striking again and again, Magica had the sense to throw her arms up, with them taking the damage. 

“Enough!” the witch yelled, forming a bubble around herself, that, despite her best efforts, Webby couldn’t break. That’s when she saw the same aura surround her that had taken out Huey and Dewey. She was thrown back into the coins with force and her leg exploded in pain, rendering her immobile. However, the pain caused her anger to fade away just enough, that she was able to take in her surroundings. She smiled in spite of herself, and raised her head up to challenge the witch.

“Magica, you may have done your best to win, but I will still have my revenge.” she assured confidently. 

“How’s that? It’s only a matter of time until your friends are dead, your uncle is trapped forever, your family is utterly defeated, and you cannot win against me yourself. So tell me, who can possibly stop me?” she asked, dropping the magical bubble, and charging up her staff to deliver a killing blow.

“Me.” a voice called out, as a glint of gold emerged from Magica’s midriff, it was Louie. He had run the witch through with the golden khopesh, and Magica gave off a blood curdling scream, dropping the dime from her grasp. Yet, she managed to keep going, as a blast of magical energy exploded from her body, knocking Louie back. He recovered quickly though, running forward and making a grab for the dime.

“NO! I have waited too long for my revenge!” Magica screamed, summoning the dime back into her hand, and magically hurling Louie at Webby. She reformed the magical defense bubble, and charged her staff up again. But this time they had no defense, there was no one left to help them, and they had no plan. 

Webby closed her eyes, and braced for the killing blast, at least she would finally get to see her dad. But, despite hearing the staff shoot a beam of magic, her demise never came. 

She opened her eyes, and saw a magical blue shield glowing around them.

“What? How?” Magica exclaimed in confusion, and Webby looked down and saw that her father’s amulet was glowing the same blue. 

She pulled it out from under her shirt, to inspect it, but as soon as she took it in her hand, she felt power flow through her veins like electricity. The pain in her leg faded, and she stood, facing the witch down. She felt drawn to her father’s sword, so she picked it up, and it glowed the same bright blue. She smiled and walked toward the evil sorceress, who shot out a beam of purple energy. But the shield remained, and Webby got closer and closer to the witch, who was panicking, now throwing all of her energy into her magical shield. Webby reached the bubble, and sliced right through it.

“Th-that’s not possible.” Magica stammered out, but made one final effort, the witch’s eyes clouding over to a pure midnight black, and the staff sparked with the pure amount of energy and dark magic poured into it. 

Magica refocused on her staff one final time and delivered a blast of pure black energy. Even with the blue shield, Webby staggered back at the blast, but she was determined, and trudged forward. Each step required more effort than the last, but Webby did it, raising her sword and slicing the staff in half. Magica recoiled in fear as the magical gemstone fell to the ground, out of her reach. And Webby, guided by nothing but instinct and a feeling deep inside her, stabbed with the glowing sword on final time, embedding the blade right through the witch’s heart. 

Webby only vaguely took notice of what happened next, as when she pulled the sword out of the witch, the blue glow faded, the pain in her leg returned in full force, and she fell to her knees. But she still saw the black energy leave Magica as she fell to the ground, dead, and she saw her great-uncle emerge from the dime. 

“Webbigail! Webby lass!” she heard her uncle call out, as her vision faded away, and darkness became all she knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So life has been kicking my ass for the last week, but good news. I'm back. Hopefully should have some more chapters here for you soon.


	19. The Conflict After The Battle

Webby woke with a start, sitting up and forcing her eyes open. And she immediately regretted it, her entire body felt like it was on fire, especially her leg, her eyes hurt with the sheer amount of light pouring through the room, and her hearing was sort of fuzzy.

But none of that mattered right now, Magica De Spell was still at large. Louie, Della, Huey, Dewey, Launchpad, they were in trouble.

Her eyesight and hearing finally came into focus as she leapt out of the, wait, a bed?

She looked around, and yeah, instead of being in the money bin, being attacked by an evil sorceress, she was in what seemed to be her bedroom. An illusion by Magica? Webby didn’t think so, it all felt so real, yet it didn’t make any sense.

One second, she was with Louie, and they were about to be killed by Magica, the next she was in her bedroom. Did she die? If so, this was not what she expected the afterlife to be like.

That’s when her Aunt Della came rushing through the door. 

“Webby? Webby, you’re finally awake!” Della exclaimed, running over and wrapping her in a tight hug. Before holding her at arm's length and looking her up and down. “How are you feeling, are you alright?”

“Yeah, just a bit sore and tired, and hungry.” Webby said, under exaggerating her symptoms a touch. If she were to be completely honest, then she was absolutely starving, it was difficult to put weight on her leg, and she could probably sleep for the next month. But, her aunt looked worried enough just at what Webby told her.

“Well lucky for you, you woke up just in time for breakfast.” Della informed with a smile

“Wait, back it up a second, what do you mean ‘finally’? How long was I asleep for? How did I end up falling asleep in the first place? What happened to Magica? Last I remember, I was with Louie, and Magica was going to kill us. What happened?” Webby asked, this made absolutely no sense

“Umm, why don’t we tell the rest of the family that you’re up, and then we can explain it to you… later.” Della proposed

“Okay.” Webby agreed, at least it seemed like her aunt was being reasonable, and the two made their way down the hall of McDuck manor, down the stairs and into the dining room, where Mrs. Beakley was serving pancakes. 

She entered the room, and was greeted by a chorus of ‘Webby!'s and ‘You’re awake!’s followed by everyone getting up from the table. Dewey, Launchpad, Della, and Scrooge were already involved in the quickly forming group hug, and Louie and Huey were getting there. That’s when Webby realized that Huey was on crutches, with a bandage wrapped around his head and Louie was helping him as they made their way towards her. They made it, and Webby was surrounded by her entire family for the first time in a while. 

They eventually dispersed and returned to their seats at the table, and Webby saw that Dewey was also sporting a cast on his right arm. Mrs. Beakley set out a plate for her, and Webby grabbed a few pancakes off the large plate in the middle of the table, slathered them in syrup, and started to absolutely devour them. 

“So, Webby, lass, how are you feeling?” a scottish voice came from the end of the table.

Webby turned to look, actually look, at her great-uncle for the first time in a few days. He didn’t look that great. He had large bags under his eyes, his cane and hat were nowhere to be found, and one of his eyes was black and swollen from where she had punched him.

“Oh, I’m fine. How are you?” she asked awkwardly

“Never better lass, never better!” he said cheerily

That didn’t make any sense either, no one should be that happy after the events of the last few days. They had uncovered the truth about her dad, moved out of the mansion, Magica trapped him in a dime, and everyone almost died. She was starting to reconsider the possibility of this all being one of Magica’s illusions.

But despite all the events of the last week, everyone seemed entirely content to completely ignore them, and Webby had the feeling that she wouldn’t be getting the answers she was after any time soon, as per usual.

Maybe it was for the best, after all, the last week was taxing on everyone. They probably needed a little time of just pretending it didn’t happen.

“Webby?” Mrs. Beakley’s voice snapped her out of her train of thought, and she looked up at the elderly housekeeper.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“I was asking if you were going to finish your plate?” Mrs. Beakley asked, pointing to Webby’s half finished plate of pancakes.

“Oh, sure thing. Mrs. B.” she responded, quickly shoving the rest of the breakfast into her mouth.

The rest of the day proceeded fairly boringly, Scrooge had to go to work to oversee the reconstruction of the bin, and Della went with him, meanwhile Launchpad, Mr. Beakley, and Duckworth were who knows where, and Huey, Louie, and Dewey were all watching Ottoman Empire together. As for Webby, well, she was doing a bit of digging around. 

She had left the sphere of Selene, and her dad’s hat on the boat with her other things, and the stuff she recovered from the archives was who knows where. She needed to find them as soon as possible, so she turned to her closest confidant.

“Hey, Louie! Can I talk to you for a second?” she called out into the tv room

“Umm, sure.” he hopped over the back of the couch and faced her “What do you need?”

“Here.” Webby grabbed his arm and led him out of possible earshot of the other two.  
“What happened to the stuff we got from the archives?”

“Well, I can’t really tell you that…” 

“What! Why not?” 

“Uncle Scrooge and my mom said I had to until they know more.” 

“Know more about what?” Webby asked, 

“I… can't really tell you about that either.” Louie said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly

“Seriously?” Webby asked

“Yeah, they won’t let me tell Huey or Dewey either.” Louie said

“I thought they were done hiding things from us. Come on Louie, you’re really trusting Scrooge over me?” Webby pleaded, she needed to know what happened

“I’m sorry Webbs, it’s just that, well, I think he might be right about this one. What I saw, maybe it’s for the best that you don’t remember, at least for the moment. All I can say is that Scrooge and my mom have the relics from the archives. But, I know that the stuff you left on your dad’s houseboat is still there.” Louie offered

“Ok, that’ll have to do.” Webby sighed, at least she had half of what she was looking for

“I really am sorry, it’s just that I think you might want to let this one lie for the moment.”

“It’s okay, Louie, I understand.” Webby said in a bald faced lie, the truth was that she understood absolutely nothing. What happened with Magica that Scrooge and Della wanted to hide from her? She didn’t know, but she was sure determined to find out. Of course, she could just try to ask Scrooge, maybe he finally learned not to keep life-altering secrets from her. But, whatever the case, her first stop was the houseboat.

Webby had never actually been inside the houseboat before today. Sure she had been on it a few times, but when they had used it against the money shark she had stayed on the deck, and the same was true for before the Battle of the Shadows, as people were calling it, apparently. 

The interior of the houseboat was quaint in a cozy home like way. It only had four rooms, a kitchen, a sitting area, and two bedrooms, but it didn’t feel cramped, in fact with the rocking of the waves, and the silence, the boat was very peaceful. Although it definitely wasn’t that clean. The entire place was coated with what Webby was sure was ten years of dust. Webby couldn’t help but wonder, would she have lived here if her dad never was shot into space? Or maybe they would have lived in the mansion, or who knows? Her dad might have had plans to move when he got into that space ship.

It didn’t take Webby long to find what she was looking for, as all of her stuff was sitting on the kitchen table. The duffel bag, the sphere, her dad’s hat, it was all there. Webby picked them up and turned to leave, but she stopped dead in her tracks. Why not see whatever else she could find? She practically knew nothing about her father, and there was no better place to pick up clues than where he lived. In fact, the only reason they didn’t search this place before in their search for the truth about her dad is because they figured that Della would have removed any trace of it from the boat. Still, she couldn’t have removed everything relating to her dad, right?

Their didn’t seem to be much in the kitchen or the sitting room, however, the first bedroom was where it got interesting. It seemed to be a nursery, painted a soft, pale yellow, a rocking chair in the corner, and space for a crib, the entire room had pictures adorning the walls. Webby paused to look at a few, most appeared to be depictions of her dad sitting with an egg that was presumably her. A few also featured Della and Scrooge, sometimes with three other eggs that were probably the triplets. But, the constant in all of them was that her father always looked so happy, dressed in his sailor’s uniform, a smile always splitting his beak.

Although, if the first room was rich in information about her dad, then the other bedroom was an absolute goldmine. It didn’t seem that way at first, only being a small blue room, with a hammock in one corner, next to a window and a closet, in fact, besides a small table next to the hammock, there was nothing there. That is, until she opened the closet, the closet was home to a couple boxes, a chest, but what stood out, was a large trunk. Webby pulled it out of the closet, and took a look at the lock that kept it closed. It was a heavy padlock, and it held firm despite all of her straining against it. 

She gave up on the trunk, and focused on the two other boxes that sat in the closet. One appeared to be a box full of papers, she pulled out a few and skimmed them, most appeared to be legal documents, with his passport, ID, and other such documentation, including a will from a guy named Cornelius Coot, whoever that was. But, the majority of the documents seemed to be letters, Webby didn’t really read any of them, but she did read who they were from. Names like Jose, Panchito, April, May, June and even a few from Scrooge and Della all popped out at her. 

She then moved on to the chest, which was actually more secure than the trunk, sporting a combination lock, and an identical padlock to the trunk. And while Webby maybe could get through the locks if she really wanted to, maybe they were locked for a reason, she had no idea. 

So she pulled out the final box, it was heavier than the other cardboard box, and when she opened it, she saw why. Inside were many picture frames, containing all sorts of images. There were more pictures of him posing with eggs, ones with Donald, Della, and Scrooge, ones with a younger looking Donald and an alive Duckworth, even ones with him and Mrs. Beakley, then there were a few of just him, one with him in a Navy uniform, and a couple of her dad with a parrot and rooster that she didn’t recognize. And at the bottom of the pile, was an old address book, Webby quickly opened it, and saw that it had names, addresses, and phone numbers. 

At that moment, her phone rang, and she pulled it out of her pocket. It was Huey.

“Hey Huey, what’s up?” she asked, picking out a few favourite pictures with her free arm, and putting it in her bag along with the address book. 

“Hi Webby, Della and Scrooge are back home, wondering where you went…” 

“Oh okay, I’ll be there soon.” Webby responded, hanging up the phone, and putting the boxes back, picking up the bag, and heading out the door. 

Maybe Scrooge would finally be open to talking about her dad now that the truth was out about the Spear. After all, him and Della were probably the only ones who could fill in the major gaps of information. Of course, she could theoretically ask Mrs. B, or Duckworth, maybe her Uncle Gladstone. But if they were unwilling to talk about him before, then she didn’t really want to coerce them into talking about him. 

But, she had no such qualms when it came to her uncle. She needed to know what happened with Magica firstly, and then she needed to start learning about her dad. 

She reached the front door, and was about to open it, when it was opened for her. Scrooge stood in the foyer, along with Louie

“Ah, Webby, lass, there you are.” Scrooge exclaimed “Good news, we were just about to head out on another rip-roaring adventure.”

“No, we are not!” Louie yelled, clearly annoyed “Listen to reason, you crazy old man!”

“Old man! Now you owe me an apology.” Scrooge huffed, but Louie paid him no mind

“Huey’s leg is shattered, and he has a concussion, Dewey’s arm was broken in two, and I’m pretty sure Launchpad and Webby are not in the best shape for traveling or, oh I don’t know. ALMOST DYING!?” Louie yelled

“Oh, you’re being overdramatic, it’s an easy adventure, not any difficult traps or anything. Why, the worst thing there’s probably just a giant boulder.” Scrooge scoffed

“A giant boulder! Huey can’t run! Come on, there has got to be something, anything that we can do at home! How about just a nice night in? Maybe a movie? How about game night?” Louie pleaded, and Scrooge stopped at the last suggestion

“Game night?” Scrooge asked, a frightening look in his eye, before running off, yelling ‘Game night!’ at random intervals.

“I’m not sure what I just saw, but it was quite the experience.” Webby commented, finally stepping into the mansion. 

“You just bore witness to me saving us from the old miser trying to kill us all.” 

“What have you done? Do you want him to kill us all?” Della asked from behind Louie

“What do you mean? It’s just a game night.” Louie pointed out, wheeling around to face his mother

“You poor, naive, FOOL! You know how competitive Scrooge gets when he’s facing off against an enemy? Well on game night, WE are the enemy.” Della warned ominously “All I can hope for is that he hasn’t already chosen a partner.”

At that moment, Scrooge ran back in and grabbed Louie’s hand. “I call Louie as my partner!” 

“Dammit!” Della cried out, before slapping a hand over her beak 

“Ugh, why am I stuck with Uncle Scrooge?” Louie whined

“Oh, by the way, if we lose, you’re out of the will.” Scrooge commented

“Okay, Uncle Scrooge, let's win this game night!” Louie exclaimed cheesily

“That’s the spirit lad.” Scrooge nodded approvingly, before running out of the room, presumably to harass more people with the fact that it was indeed, game night. 

“Wait, Uncle Scrooge!” Webby called out, she was still meaning to ask him what really happened in the money bin that night. According to the calendar, it had been a full day since the battle when she woke up. What caused her to sleep for a whole day?  
“Webby! What was it that you needed lass?” Scrooge asked

“Everyones been avoiding the subject, but what happened when we faced Magica?” Webby asked, hoping that her great-uncle would give her a straight answer for once.

“Well, umm, can we talk about this later? It’s game night.” Scrooge said, in an obvious attempt to stall

“What! What is it that you’re trying to hide from me?” Webby demanded, she was getting real sick of all of these lies, half-truths, and just refusing to answer questions.

“Nothing, lass, it’s just that…”

“Just what?”

“It’s just that, we think it’s for the best that you don’t know. At least not right away.” Scrooge smiled apologetically, but Webby was unimpressed

“When?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You said not right away, well in that case, when?” Webby asked, calling Scrooge out on his bluff.

“Well, umm, soon. Can this wait until after game night?” he suggested, dashing away before she could respond.

“Crazy old man.” Webby commented dryly, before being tapped on the shoulder

“Webby, will you be my partner? Dewey and Huey already teamed up.” Della asked

“Sure.” she agreed, sighing, once again, Scrooge keeps the truth from her, and who gets to suffer? Why only her of course.

“Everyone! To the living room for the first challenge!” Scrooge’s voice resounded through the hall, and Webby made her way over with her aunt

But, she saw an exchange between Louie and Gyro going down near the foyer, and slipped away from her aunt for the moment.

“No, now is not the time Gyro, I finally managed to convince Scrooge not to kill us all, and I don’t need another reason for him to reconsider.” Louie explained

“As I said, green one, the discovery of the Gyropudlians is possibly one of the greatest of this century, we must investigate immediately.” Gyro responded

“No, we don’t, the tiny people have probably been here for years, they can stand one or two more nights without you ‘investigating’ them!” Louie yelled, slamming the door shut, and locking it.

“Louie, Webby! Where are you!? We’re waiting on you!” Scrooge’s impatient voice came from the other room, and the two rushed into the living room. 

“Now prepare for the first challenge… charades!” Scrooge exclaimed, placing a bowl of slips of paper on the table, as Webby sat down next to Della. Scrooge was taking this whole ‘act like the last few days didn’t happen’ a little too far in Webby’s opinion.

Louie and Scrooge won charades easily, and proceeded to win Jenga. Dewey was too excited for his own good, and Webby didn’t really care about the outcome, meaning they lost fairly badly, Launchpad and Beakley were actually doing alright, despite Launchpad being the one to have knocked over the Jenga tower. Now they were all assembled in the dining room, and Webby was just waiting for this night to be over with already.

“The final challenge begins.” Scrooge proclaimed, taking out a box

“Scroogopoly? Is it just me or does the last game seem super rigged?” Dewey asked, looking at the board game

“Nonsense, now which piece will your team play as?” 

The rest of the night proceeded as could be expected. Louie and Scrooge were in the lead, both having massive stacks of money in front of them, usually only being 20 or so dollars ahead or behind one another. Needless to say, they won. 

But, Webby really didn’t care, she could finally pin Scrooge down, and get him to spill the beans.

So she approached him as he was putting away the game, with the rest of the family milling around the dining room. 

“Uncle Scrooge?” Webby aked, tapping him on the shoulder

“Yes lass?”

“You said you would tell me what happened with Magica after game night, and…” Webby held up her arms, gesturing to the obvious

“No, I said soon.” Scrooge contended “Anyway, I really don’t think this is the time…”

“What are you trying to hide from me!” Webby exclaimed, that familiar fury flowing through her veins

“What do you mean?” Scrooge asked, playing dumb

“See! There it is again, when will you learn that nothing good ever comes from keeping secrets. It only leads to people getting hurt or worse.” Webby yelled, gaining the attention of the whole family 

“Now, Webby, listen-” Scrooge held out his hand placatingly

“No, you listen. What are we doing?! We’re just acting like what? Like Magica De fucking Spell didn’t almost kill us? That we didn’t have a fist fight in a plane not three days ago? That my dad isn’t dead because of your arrogance!? Because if so, I’m not sure I want to be a part of this family anymore. I’m tired of this, all the secrets, all the lies. I thought we had finally finished lying to one another.” Webby’s eyes were filling with tears, she wiped them away stubbornly, voice shaky “I’m-I don’t think I can do this anymore, I don’t think I can live with the constant lies, the constant secrets. I just need to get out of here.” Webby pushed through the family that assembled around her, and made her way out of the room. As she was leaving, she could hear Scrooge and Della conversing.

“What! You can’t just let her leave!” Scrooge exclaimed

“She just needs some time, the best thing we can do now is give her that time.” Della said, and Webby was gone

But she didn’t just walk out the door, oh no, there was work to be done before that. She went upstairs and grabbed the bag with her clothes, the sphere, the hat, and the stuff from the boat. Then she went through the vents, and right into Scrooge’s office. Sitting right on his desk was her father’s sword and the amulet. She grabbed both, and left right through the front door.

The second Webby made it out the door, she started walking down the driveway toward the harbor. 

She might not be able to bring her father back, but at least she could learn about him. She was going to get the boxes she had left in the houseboat, and take them... somewhere. She really wasn’t clear on the details. 

Webby reached the docks, and walked the familiar wooden boards, toward the boat. 

She was surprised to find the door unlocked, but descended into the houseboat undeterred. 

She placed the sword, hat, bag and sphere down on the kitchen table, and went towards the bedroom. Webby opened the closet door, and grabbed the chest first, intending to take all of them. She brought the chest back into the kitchen, and almost dropped it.

Sitting at the kitchen table was none other than Scrooge McDuck, who was holding the sphere of Selene. Tears sparkled in his eyes, and a fond smile plastered on his beak as he stared into the artifact. Webby set the chest on the floor gently, and the small noise caused her uncle to look up. 

“Webby. I thought I might find you here.” he wiped his eyes, and set down the sphere.  
“Look, lass, when you and the boys left, I didn’t know what to do myself. I know I’ve made so many mistakes in the past, I’ve lied, I’ve kept secrets and all it’s done is hurt my family, especially with your father, and you. Webby, Donald was practically my son. I can’t tell you how painful losing him was. I knew it was my fault, and so, when Della left with you kids, I didn’t even try to stop her. I tried to live without you kids for ten years, but I can’t do it again. So, could you please find it in yourself to forgive a foolish old man?” Scrooge hung his head, as if bracing for the rejection

Webby didn’t answer right away, her father was dead because of Scrooge, she knew that. But, the days that she had spent trying to hate her uncle, they were so taxing on her body, her heart, her soul. Webby grew weary just thinking about it. The fact of the matter was that Scrooge was family, and she couldn’t hate her family. Angry? Sure. Annoyed? Absolutely. But she couldn’t bring herself to hate the old geezer. 

“Tell me about him.” she said simply, 

“What?” Scrooge raised up his head, looking shocked

“Donald, my dad, tell me about him.” Webby said, taking a seat across from Scrooge

He paused for a second, before a small smile broke his features, and he nodded slowly.

“Donald and Della came to live with me when they were a few years younger than you are now. Ah, and they were trouble from the very start…” Scrooge told stories for hours, and Webby sat enraptured, hanging onto every word

It was several hours, but to Webby, it felt like only a few moments when Scrooge glanced out the window, and then back down at his watch.

“Curse me kilts, it’s already midnight!” Scrooge exclaimed, jumping out of his seat “You know lass, I understand if you need space. If you want, you could stay here for awhile.” Scrooge offered

“No, it’s about time I went home. The manor I mean.” Webby said, flashing a smile to her great-uncle

He smiled fondly back, and Webby picked up her dad’s things off the table, and they walked out the door together.

“So what did happen with Magica?” Webby asked

“Well, according to Louie…” they shut the door behind them.


	20. One Final Showdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to my friend Justarandomfandomgirl, who made a awesome piece of art based on my work.  
https://am-smol-brain-bean.tumblr.com/post/189306117567/reblogging-with-a-better-pic-beacuse-the-first-pic  
This is the link to it right here

Penumbra thought the plan was going quite well, despite its simplicity. It was clear that they didn’t have a chance against the Earther in ground combat. He was too determined, too strong, too fast, so they had to take him out with an aerial assault. So, the plan was to tell the Earther that he would be able to return home, once he accepts and takes off, deploy her own fleet to shoot his ship down. Then, the fleet proceeds to Earth, and begins the invasion by bombing several major Earth cities. After that, the ground forces assembled here would proceed to the transport ships, and the ground portion of the invasion would begin.

Of course, this entire sequence would be started by the naive alien taking off, and he was taking an excruciatingly long time to do so. The Earther had accepted the deal, and had climbed into his ship, the engines were primed, and an expectant silence had fallen over her army.

“General?” a hesitant voice came over her intercom “Should the fleet take off?”

“No, wait for my signal.” Penumbra commanded, and looked up where the cockpit door was still open, if that duck didn’t take off soon then she would go up there and kill him herself. She leapt into the air, with that exact intention in mind, going for the ladder.

The explosion was massive, and Penumbra was sent flying backward, as her army was vaporized. She hit the ground, and all went black.

When she opened her eyes again, it was with great effort, her entire body felt as if it were on fire. That’s when she realized that she actually was on fire, she patted out the flames covering her body, and observed the area around her. The explosion had practically given the moon another crater, and if any of her army survived, they weren’t here. All that was left of her forces was puddles of melted gold and moonlander remains. Honestly, it was a miracle she survived, although not entirely unscathed, she had parts of skin that were charred, and she might just collapse from all the pain. 

However, almost all of it seemed to dissipate when she saw the small white form that still had the audacity to move. That shouldn’t be possible, that duck should be long dead. However, Penumbra wasn’t too angry, it just meant she got to kill the whelp herself. With great effort, she got up from the dust in which she landed, and limped her way over to the white blob. She didn’t have any of her weapons, but that was all the better, she would kill him with her bare hands.

The duck was on his hands and knees, coughing up blood. He looked worse than usual, his shirt was peppered with large holes, she could see pieces of scrap metal sticking from his body, an especially large one, about the size of a dagger, embedded in his chest, and Penumbra could smell the stench of burning flesh. There was no doubt that he was on the brink of death, but Penumbra would be the one to deliver him to it. He glanced up from his position on the ground, taking notice of her.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me. How many times do I have to stop you before you give up?” he wheezed

“I could ask the same of you Earther.” she picked him up by the collar of his tattered shirt “I must say that you are either the bravest or the most idiotic man on either of our worlds.” she sneered

“Probably the latter.” he shrugged “But face it General, you’ve lost.”

Penumbra snarled at his comment, and hit him in the face as hard as she possibly could, making his already damaged beak start to bleed. 

“Go ahead General, kill me, I have nothing to lose.” he smiled, showing off blood stained teeth.

“That is where you are wrong Donald Duck, you will die, but you have everything to lose. You might have killed my ground forces, but I still have my fleet.” she smiled maniacally, and punched him again.

Penumbra saw the look in his eye go from accepting, to flashing with anger, to absolute determination. But, it hardly mattered, he was powerless to stop her, she wound up for another blow, when she felt new searing pain in her wrist, and her hand fell to the ground. 

Donald Duck had somehow pulled the shrapnel out of the right side of his chest, and used the jagged edge as a knife, slicing clean through her left hand. His chest was pouring out blood, but that didn’t stop the duck as he charged Penumbra again, brandishing his makeshift weapon. He jumped on top of her, and landed blow after blow on any part of her body that she could, leaving it bloody and bruised. Penumbra tried to fight back, but he was too quick, anyplace she tried to strike him, she only ended up hitting herself. The duck was a blur of fury and rage, and she couldn’t shake him. 

Penumbra was only surprised that he hadn’t used his weapon… and there it was. He stabbed the back of her knee, and with a precise punch, sent her toward the ground.

He stood over her, victorious, holding his piece of shrapnel to her throat. 

“Do it Donald Duck, prove forever to the moon, that the Earth is an unstoppable threat that deserves to die.” Penumbra proclaimed,

“No, the Earth isn’t a threat to your people, but I am. I will destroy your fleet, and after that, I want you to do something. Tell every single one of your people, the men, the women, the children, pass the news from one generation to the next. The Earth is under my protection, and if a moonlander ever poses a threat to it again, I will not rest until your entire species lays dead at my feet.” he declared, standing over her, still holding the dagger to her throat.

Penumbra had no doubt that he meant every word, he had killed hundreds of thousands of her people, as it was, there were only a few hundred of moonlanders left. Which was exactly why she had to stop him. She clenched her right fist, and brought it up with as much force as she could muster, right into the duck’s throat. He went flying up into the air, only to land on his metal knee, hacking, but still gripping his piece of shrapnel. 

Penumbra struggled to her feet, and held up her fist, the other stump of an arm gushing blue blood. Donald Duck, however, didn’t move, only standing and coughing. He opened his beak as if to say something, but all that came out were pained wheezes. He then assumed a defensive stance, as Penumbra rushed forward to finish this once and for all. 

She went in for a swing, but the duck was too fast, and dodged out of the way, slicing at her arm while he was at it. The gouge in her right arm started to ooze blood as well, and Penumbra could feel herself growing faint, she couldn’t hold out for much longer. Although it seemed she wouldn’t need to as when she went for her next sluggish swing, the duck dodged under, finally embedding the shrapnel in her chest.

Penumbra fell to the ground for the final time that day, and couldn’t find the strength to move, and her vision faded to that of darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Late Thanksgiving folks! I got you the best gift I could think of, a new Donald chapter!


	21. Merry Timeline Altering Christmas!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you missed it, I added a whole new section to the last Webby chapter, chapter 18. So go back, read it if you haven't already, and come back here and read this.

It’s been a couple months since that conversation on the houseboat. And it was business as usual for the Duck family, Huey and Dewey had finally gotten their casts off, and the adventure had been abundant. 

But, they were taking a bit of a break. It was Christmas, snow filled the air. And the Ducks were celebrating in true Duck-McDuck fashion. That is, only half of them were actually celebrating. 

Della was pretty quiet and morose as usual when it came to Christmas. Sporting a blue scarf and an ugly sweater that was clearly too big for her. She sat in an armchair in the corner, clearly absorbed in thought, staring out the window at the swirling snow. 

Scrooge was, well, being a Scrooge about the whole affair. He seemed to have some personal issues with old Santa Claus, and retired to his bedroom at a ridiculously early time for Christmas eve. As for Webby, Huey, and Louie, well they were all celebrating as best they could. The past couple months have been good for Webby, it seemed as if she had finally moved on and accepted her father’s death. It helped that the whole family was more open to talking about him. Scrooge’s stories now featured the heroic adventurer Donald, Della told of childhood experiences shared with him, even Gladstone mentioned him once or twice that one time he came to visit. 

But Dewey couldn’t find it in his heart to be happy. It was just there was so much that happened in the past year, it was almost difficult to comprehend. If you had told Dewey at the start of this year that he was related to Scrooge McDuck, and that in only a few weeks he would be living in the same house as him. Dewey would definitely have called you crazy, and that was the least weird thing to happen this year. Then there was the crazy search for Webby’s dad, and Magica De Spell, and all the other crazy, dangerous adventures. 

Honestly when Dewey looked back, he saw what Louie meant by saying that he was tired of adventures. After all, how many times had he almost died over the last year? 

Dozens. Possibly hundreds. He didn’t know how his siblings were keeping it together. Was he the only one in this entire family afraid of death.

He still has dreams, every single night of that night in the money bin, being shot hundreds of feet in the air, dangling in the thin air for a split second before falling to his doom, all of his mistakes flashing before his eyes. The only difference between his dreams and reality is that in the dream, there is no Launchpad to save him.  
So when he was offered to engage in festive activities with his siblings, he had to refuse, the past couple months have been non-stop adventure, this is one of the few breaks he’s had in a long time. He just needed to use it, sitting in a dark room, with peace and quiet. 

So that’s exactly what he was doing. Sitting on his middle bunk, the entire bedroom bathed in darkness. He relished the silence, and let his mind wander. He wondered how his mom and Donald dealt with all this adventure. After all, if their stories are to be believed, Donald could be pretty reluctant when it came to adventures. Maybe he had a way of coping with them. Of course, it didn’t really matter, it’s not like he was around to ask. 

Suddenly, a bunch of noise started to come from the hall. Very loud, very annoying noise. Dewey groaned and tried to bury his face in his pillow, with very little effect. The noise was still going strong. 

Dewey reluctantly got out of his bed, falling down the ladder more than climbing down it, and opened the door. He shuffled his way towards the source of the noise, it was probably Webby or something, he would just ask them to keep it down. 

But, when he opened the door, he found Scrooge surrounded by three figures.

“Scrooge! Scrooge! Scrooge!” they chanted as his great-uncle chugged what looked to be eggnog.

He slammed his cup down triumphantly, only to do a double take as he spotted Dewey. 

“Dewey, what are you doing here?” Scrooge asked, quickly getting up and wiping off his beak

“Better question. What are you doing? Who are these people?” Dewey asked staring at the three. There was a small cricket that was hovering midair, a large pig dressed all in green, and… was that the grim reaper?

“We’re the spirits of Christmas!” the cricket piped up

“Aye, Dewey, meet Christmas Past, Present, and Future.” Scrooge introduced, pointing to each one separately

“Christmas spirits? I thought you hated Christmas.” Dewey pointed out, 

“That’s a bit of an act.” Scrooge confessed, “It’s just that I have so many responsibilities, especially with you kids here. Christmas is the one time of year when I can really let loose. I love having you here, but I need a break once in awhile, you understand?” 

Scrooge needed a break from THEM? Dewey almost broke into hysterical laughter just at that. Almost. 

“So, using my trusty time-brella, we go back to the best Christmas parties history has to offer!” Past exclaimed

“Dewey, I’d appreciate it if you could keep this secret.” Scrooge said, lining up with the spirits at the window.

“Fine, I’ll keep it quiet this time.” Dewey said, sitting down on a dusty bed, but wait, if the spirits really were going back to Christmasses of the past. Maybe he could hitch a ride, and ask his Uncle Donald how he dealt with all these adventures.

With that thought in mind, he grabbed onto Future’s cloak, and was lifted into the air. Wait, he definitely didn’t sign up for this. But, it was too late to turn back, they flew over Duckburg as the clock reversed. 

Dewey though, was freaking out, the height was extreme, and it was just like that night at the bin. His grip on the cloak loosened, as images of him falling to his death flashed before his eyes. That’s when he actually started to fall. He screamed the whole way down, and landed right in the snow. Dewey could almost kiss the ground. He was still alive! He looked around, looks like he was right in front of the manor.

“Right back where I started. But, maybe not back when I started.” Dewey said, running toward the manor

He crept the quiet halls, going toward the only source of sound, that of guitar chords being played. Dewey opened a door, he swore wasn’t there before… in the future, man, was time travel weird. Inside, was some kid, dressed in some band shirt, and a large blue plaid shirt, he was strumming an electric guitar.

“Can’t understand a word I say, so phooey, phooey, phooey on you!” the young duck could have only been a couple years older than Dewey, but not only was his voice deeper, but there was some strange roughness to it. He could really only understand every other word. But, the duck looked familiar, could that be…? Webby’s dad?

“Donald?” he asked, and the younger one leapt up, and effortlessly picked Dewey off the ground by his collar

“Who are you? What did you hear? Did you like it? Answer me!” Donald shook Dewey, like he weighed nothing

“I’m... Bluey. Your fifteenth step-cousin on your great-grandmother’s niece’s side from Canada. Eh?” Dewey quickly lied

Donald scrutinized him, and Dewey winced, he’s sure he couldn’t lie to this guy.

“This is the most confusing family.” he returned to his bed, and began to strum his guitar again

“So, umm, what is it you play?” Dewey looked around the room, there were all sorts of cases propped against walls in random spots.

“Electric, acoustic, cello, accordion, flute, and the trumpet.” Donald listed, pointing out a few specific cases as he went

“Interesting.” he nodded. Dewey really didn’t know how to approach talking to his uncle, so he stood, trying to think of something. Donald, however, seemed to notice.

“Look kid, if you want, Della’s out back looking for Santa, you can go join her. She’s more of the ‘social butterfly’.” he offered

“Looking for Santa, huh? No thanks, last thing I need is another adventure on Christmas.” Dewey muttered

“Tell me about it kid, they’re always dragging me on adventures.” Donald complained

“Really? How do you deal with it?” Dewey asked

“I don’t know kid, you just have to keep rolling with the punches, and learn how to fend for yourself, that’s important. You never know when your family isn’t gonna be there to save you.” Donald advised

“Has that happened to you?” Dewey could imagine Scrooge prioritizing adventure over personal safety, but not his family's life

“All the time, I’m usually what you would call, ‘the distraction’ in our adventures, keeping the bad guys busy while Scrooge and Della get the treasure. It’s given me quite a few scars to show for it. Which is why I’m done with adventure. I’m tired of being the guy they throw to the wayside for treasure. I’m tired of almost dying.” Donald said, his nonchalant attitude shifting, revealing a deeper sadness.

“I understand that, the not wanting to die I mean. Honestly, it’s like, can I have one normal day, without brushing close to death?” Dewey contributed

Then, out of the darkness, and the open window, came a high-pitched scream.

“Della?!” Donald exclaimed, throwing off his guitar, and running over to a large map, and pulling out a sword that was embedded in it. He was about to leap out the window, when he turned back to Dewey.

“Kid, I know you wanted a quiet Christmas, and so did I. But my family’s in trouble, you with me?” he held out his hand, standing on the windowsill. 

“Yeah.” Dewey confirmed, taking his uncle’s hand. He was pulled onto the windowsill, and Donald jumped, sliding down the roof and down onto the ground below.

“C’mon Bluey, we don’t have a lot of time here!” Donald called out, and despite all common sense, and self preservation kept him from doing it, Dewey jumped and tumbled to the ground.

Donald pulled him up from the ground, and the two madly sprinted their way through the woods, until they found a campsite that was in shambles. There was a large tent, and a red substance on the trees. 

“Do you think she was attacked?” Dewey voiced, staring at the red stuff on the trees.

“Maybe…” Donald said, sticking his finger in the red substance and sticking it in his mouth, and Dewey recoiled in disgust “But not here, this stuff’s just jelly.”

“What would you have done if it wasn’t?” Dewey asked as Donald inspected the rest of the campsite.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you can smell blood from a mile away. It’s not pleasant, trust me. Ugh, why is Della making such a big deal about this. She packed way too much food, and a family sized tent that she couldn’t even put up properly.” Donald said, moving on from the camp, and following a set of footprints in the snow, one small, and similar to Dewey’s own, and the other much larger, practically unrecognizable.

Donald still held the sword, as the duo followed the tracks.

“Della’s footprints end here.” Donald noted,

Suddenly, they heard heavy footsteps approaching them. They wheeled around, and came face to face with a huge furry creature, with massive curved horns and glowing green eyes.

“That is not Santa Claus.” Donald drypanned, as the creature roared, and the two ran

“Quick, up the tree!” Donald ordered, and they climbed up the tall oak, Donald getting a major lead over Dewey, whose new found fear of heights wasn’t doing him any favors.  
But, neither was the monster, as it rammed into the tree at full force, bringing it toppling down.

Donald and Dewey ran into the woods, dodging the creature’s swipes. They seemed to have finally lost it when they were hoisted into the air, snagged by a net. 

“Ugh, one of Della’s Santa traps.” Donald griped 

“Can’t you cut us down?” Dewey asked, frantic. In response, Donald pointed at the forest floor, where the sword lay.

“I can try to undo the knot.” Donald said, reaching up to the top of the net, only to be stopped as Della descended down the rope, and started sawing at the rope

“C’mon Dumbella! Go faster!” Donald ordered, and Della stopped  
“No, not until you apologize.” Della demanded, crossing her arms

“For what?!” Donald protested, 

“Typical Donald, doesn’t even know what he did wrong.” Della huffed

“How could I have done anything wrong? I haven’t seen you all night!” Donald yelled, and it suddenly dawned on Dewey.

“That’s what you did wrong. You spent tonight locked in your room, trying to avoid adventure. But Della didn’t care about the adventure, she only wanted to spend Christmas with you.” Dewey explained “And come to think about it. I have some apologizing to do to my own family.”

“Ok, Della I’m sorry I didn’t spend Christmas with you!” Donald rushed as the monster broke into the clearing.

With one deliberate swipe, Della cut the rope, and Donald and Della landed expertly on the forest floor, while Dewey landed in a heap. To say the twins were better adventurers than Dewey would be a massive understatement, as Donald picked the sword off the ground. The two gave a nod of understanding to each other and charged toward the beast.

Della slid between the monster’s legs and began to ascend a tree while Donald faced the beast head on. Dewey got up and stood slightly behind his uncle.

“Come on you big palooka!” Donald yelled, the grip on his sword noticeably tightening

The creature faced him, “When-he-go?!” it roared, “Scrooge!”

“Of course.” Dewey and Donald said at the same time, as Della leapt down from above, landing right behind the monster’s neck. She grabbed onto the creature’s horns, but it reached up, and grabbed her right off itself. 

It held Della in the air by the legs and she let out a high-pitched scream. Donald’s breathing got noticeably heavier, and Dewey could almost see the steam coming out of his ears. If Webby was anything like her father, Dewey knew exactly what this meant. Donald was getting angry, really angry. And, sure enough, not a second later, he let out a guttural, animalistic noise, and ran straight towards the creature.

Dewey had always thought that Webby’s anger was frightening. When she lost control, it was as if her skills were dialed up to eleven. She was strong, fast, and brutal, hell, her smack-down of Scrooge was one of the scariest things he had ever seen.

But nothing Webby ever did prepared Dewey for her dad. Donald was like a bolt of pain, he was moving so fast that he was barely a blur, moving around the monster, leaving destruction in his wake. 

He left gouges in the monster’s skin, but instead of drawing blood, the cuts revealed stone. Still, the monster seemed to be in pain, and dropped Della, she fell into the snow, and looked around on how to help her brother.

“Hey kid, help me out!” she called out, and Dewey turned to her. Della motioned to the net lying in the snow, and Dewey knew what she wanted to do.

He grabbed an end of rope, and climbed one tree, while Della ascended the other, they pulled it taunt, and the creature stumbled into it. He and Della leapt off their respective branches, and swung on the ropes, tying up the creature. It fell to the ground and struggled for a second before resigning to its capture. The stone had seemed to spread in a web-like pattern, almost like a cracked vase.

The two stood right beside the fallen monster, Donald climbed off the creature’s back, sword in hand.

“Man, I gotta use this thing more often!” Donald exclaimed, twirling the blade in small circles

“So what now?” Dewey asked, and he soon found himself dragging a several ton monster up to the front steps of the manor. Thankfully, Donald seemed to do most of the heavy lifting, and they got it there eventually.

“Listen Della, I really am sorry. I promise, we’ll never spend another Christmas apart.” Donald said, and the two briefly hugged before going up the steps.

“Stay here, we’ll get Uncle Scrooge to take care of the beast.” Della said, going through the door, and Donald was about to follow, when Dewey called out.

“Donald! Wait!”  
“What is it kid?” Donald asked genuinely descending the steps again

“I think I’ve finally figured it out. You don’t like adventure because you get hurt being the ‘distraction’ well I don’t see it that way.” 

“Really, how do you see it?”

“That out there in the forest, that wasn’t a distraction, it wasn’t even a fight, it was just a guy protecting his family. So whenever you have to fight anyone, just remember, you’re doing it for your family.” Dewey advised, and Donald suddenly swept him into a hug

“Thanks kid, now you get back to your family. Although that’s still us, isn’t it?” Donald asked, a smirk planted firmly on his beak

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dewey asked nervously

“Please, you’re totally a relative from the future, aren’t you?” 

“Is it really that obvious?” Dewey groaned

“Yep. Now get back to your time, Bluey.” he winked, and headed inside.

Of course, that’s when the monster broke free of its bonds. Dewey whipped around, as the beast rose to its full height, the cracks evident.

Then, out of nowhere, Scrooge appeared, bouncing off the creature’s head, sending it toppling toward the ground once more. 

“What are you doing here, now?!” Scrooge demanded

“Let’s just go home.” Dewey said, hugging his great-uncle around the midriff.

The monster, however, was making a new noise the rest of the body turned into pure stone, and the cracks finally shattered, revealing a small, green, glowing figure.

“Past?” the other spirits, that Dewey had just realized were there, and Scrooge gasped

In response, the cricket just sighed.

“I’m going to give an old friend a Christmas present.” Scrooge said, approaching the spirit “No one gets left behind, especially on Christmas.” Scrooge held out a tiny umbrella

“You mean it?” the spirit asked hopefully, and Scrooge nodded. He perked up, and took the umbrella  
“Believe, rise, and walk with me!”

It was Christmas, snow filled the air. And they were celebrating in true Duck-McDuck fashion. They were gathered around the piano, singing Launchpad’s improvised Christmas songs, Della had snapped out of her funk singing in her oversized sweater, Scrooge had introduced the spirits, and the four of them were the most obnoxious out of the bunch, although Dewey was definitely weirded out with how Mrs. Beakley was looking at Future. As for Webby, Huey, and Louie, they welcomed back Dewey without question, and only happiness, and everything felt right in the world.


	22. Peace

Donald needed to move, he wasn’t sure how much longer he would survive out here. That wound from the shrapnel was bleeding a lot, and he didn’t do it any favors by fighting with the General. He needed to destroy their fleet before they could start attacking the Earth. Then, without an army or a fleet, and a threat upon their lives, the moonlanders would hopefully stop their plans to attack the Earth once and for all. Which is something he’s been trying to do for a long, long time, but he had to believe this would work. He was bleeding out, and he wouldn’t have another shot at this, he had to stop them here and now.

He walked the entire way to their golden city, hand desperately pressed against his chest, doing the best he could to stop the flow of blood. He stumbled through the empty streets, praying that no moonlanders would try to stop him. He didn’t have any weapons, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to take on another alien in hand to hand combat. 

Fortunately, it wasn’t difficult to find the fleet, the golden replicas of the Spear towered over most of the low buildings of the city. All Donald had to do was commandeer one of the ships and use the weapons system to destroy the rest of the fleet.

He reached the bottom of the ladder of one of the ships, lifted up one of his legs to ascend the ladder, and doubled over in pain. His chest wound was growing worse, but dammit if Donald was going to die, his last act would be protecting his planet, and his family. So he leapt into the air, and fell through the circular entrance to the cockpit. He tumbled on the golden ground of the ship, when he realized something, he wasn’t the only one in the ship.

No, there was another, a moonlander, blue in color, slightly overweight if the Generals were anything to go by, and he was holding a gun to Donald’s head.

“Freeze Earther! I will shoot you!” the alien sounded nervous, scared even. Good, he had reason to be.

Donald got up on his knees, and held his hands in the air, in obvious sign of surrender. But, when the moonlander got close enough, Donald brought his arm down as fast as lightning, and snatched the gun out of the moonlanders grip. Without hesitation, he shot the moonlander directly through the forehead.

He then gritted his teeth as he turned the gun toward himself, and shot the shrapnel wound. It burned his flesh, cauterizing the wound. Hopefully, it would buy him enough time to do what needed to be done.

Donald threw the alien’s body out the door before returning to the controls of the ship, if he recalled correctly, the controls for the weapons should be built into the yoke of the ship. Of course, he didn’t really know, he had never bothered to memorize how to operate the guns, in fact he hadn’t even bothered to reinstall the weapons when he rebuilt the original Spear, instead using the parts as spares. 

So, it was just his luck that he needed to figure out the controls to the weapons now. 

Still, he had to try, so he powered up the ship, gearing it for takeoff. It was soon ready, and for the first time, in what felt like a millenium, he climbed into the pilot’s chair. The replicate Spear took off, and Donald expertly maneuvered it to turn around while remaining in the moon’s atmosphere. 

He now faced the city, engines on minimum power, as he fired up the weapons system. Donald put his finger over the red trigger, and prayed to whatever deity that would listen that this would work. He aimed for the line of golden ships with one yoke, and pressed down on the other. Just as he had hoped, a bolt of bright blue energy shot out, and the ship exploded in a plume of fire. 

Donald brought the ship closer to the city, only a few hundred feet up, and started to fire on every ship in the entire line, causing them all to explode in a line of fire and smoke. But why stop there? He had a powerful tool at his disposal, and with how much blood he lost, he probably wouldn’t survive long enough to reinforce his threat that he issued to the General. 

It was time to finish this, once and for all, whatever the cost.

He started to open fire on the city. Destroying every building, every monument, every statue he could, he made several flybys of the city, leaving everything in his destructive path an absolute ruin. 

Donald glanced out the viewport, the entire city was smoking, and no building was left standing. 

His work was finally done. The moonlanders knew this was the work of one duck, they will never threaten an entire planet full of them again. His world was safe, his family was safe, his daughter was safe. He could finally rest. He could finally die. 

He almost gave into the darkness that grew on the edges of his vision, before he had an idea. He was in the Spear anyway, why not make course for Earth? Who knows, his family might just find his body to bury. But his last act would be to try to return to his family. One. Final. Time.

The Spear’s autopilot took over, and Donald gave into the darkness, finally at peace.


	23. The Return

If you had told Scrooge 18 months ago, that he would be able to see his family again. And not only that, but that they would live with him, and go on unforgettable adventures together, and even be able to give them a hug, or play a board game with them. Well first, he would call you mad, deny needing his family at all, and kick you off the premises.

But, there was no doubt in his mind now, that offering the mansion to his estranged niece was the best decision he had ever made. Maybe only after when he had decided that Donald and Della could live with him instead of their grandmother. He had never felt more alive, rewriting history, going on daring adventures, acquiring treasure, and solving mysteries. 

They were about to begin their most recent quest. He had recently stumbled on a little relic in an uncharted part of White Agony Plains, and it was going to be the breakthrough of the century.

“Behold, the Cartographer’s Quill. Capable of mapping out the locations of the most valuable treasures of all time.” he exclaimed, holding a glowing blue glass quill aloft, and letting it fill out a blank piece of paper. The entire family was standing in the foyer of the manor, getting ready for their voyage. The triplets, Webby, even Della was there.

“This could be the most important moment in our adventuring lives!” he continued, a knock on the door going unnoticed as he flung it open. Revealing a figure, silhouetted by the sinking sun.

The figure stepped forward, revealing a duck. To call him disheveled looking would be a massive understatement. He had a strip of jagged black cloth covering his right eye, his hair reached well past his shoulders, and he had a beard that went down past his belt. His left leg looked like it was made out of metal, and he sported a black shirt that not only had no sleeves, but was also peppered with countless holes, he had some bandages wrapped around a few random places, but what really drew Scrooge’s attention was the places where his feathers were stained red, and the others where the feathers and skin were blackened and burned. 

The man looked familiar, but Scrooge simply couldn’t place it at first. Surely he would’ve remembered this person, no one with those amount of injuries is easy to forget about. Yet, he couldn’t quite place it. The duck in question offered no clues, his beak remained unmoving, and his eye darted around the room, looking at each family member, resting for only a split-second on one before moving to another. 

Then, it hit him like a concrete sack. The uniform, the stoic expression, every other trait that Scrooge had never expected to see again. The traits of his kid.

“Donald?” he exclaimed, eyes going wide, the quill in his hand suddenly seemed to gain a hundred pounds, falling out of his hand, and shattering on the floor, disturbing the silence. The duck didn’t respond, but instead, stepped close, closer, closer still to Scrooge, his one eye wide.

His hand rose, and stagnated in front of his field of vision, hesitating and hovering just above the trillionaire’s shoulder. He brought it down slowly and excruciatingly, landing heavy and weighty on his shoulder. Donald’s eye somehow went wider, as it flittered between his hand and Scrooge’s face. The tears began to blur Scrooge’s vision as his own hand rose, and covered the cold, shaking hand.  
“It’s alright son. You’re home.” he whispered, just loud enough for Donald to hear, and something in his nephew’s bewildered expression seemed to break, his eye filling with tears, and his beak contorting into a small smile. Scrooge couldn’t take it any longer, and swept the duck into a massive embrace, resisting the urge to swing him about.

Scrooge set him down, just in time to see a blur of brown and white appear out of the corner of his vision, and Della Duck was there. She did what Scrooge was too afraid to do, and indeed, picked Donald up in a hug, swinging him in a small circle. 

“Donald?!” she held him at arm’s length by the shoulders and looked him up and down.  
“What happened to you?”

At this, he seemed to deflate, and in a nonexistent response, returned Della’s tight embrace. Scrooge joined on, his arms extending over the two, and squeezing both of them, as a subtle reminder to the duo and to himself, that this was real. 

“Don, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I ever even thought of that damn Spear in the first place.” Della reverently apologized, her eyes filling with tears, and Donald ran a hand through her hair, comforting her, a silent sign of forgiveness. 

It was Donald who broke the embrace, pushing the two away from him, and breathing a visible sigh of relief when the two gave him back his space, yet looking slightly disappointed as well. He wildly looked around the room again, this time focusing on Beakley, who had entered the room, he walked up to her, and held out his hand, an indication for a handshake. Beakley paused before taking it, and shook it for a second before pulling Donald into a side arm hug.

He smiled, and looked around, this time his focus landing on the children. He strangely approached Dewey first, getting on his metal knee, and ruffling his hair. He stared into Dewey’s eyes, and raised an eyebrow, a silent question. Scrooge had no idea what it meant, but Dewey seemed to grasp the general idea. 

“It’s Dewey, Dewey Duck. Your nephew.” he introduced, and Donald nodded, and gave him a wink.

He turned to face Huey, who was flipping through his guidebook. A million questions no doubt on his mind before Donald reached up, and closed the book gently. Huey looked up in a sheepish way.  
“Sorry, umm, Huey, umm, also your nephew.” he awkwardly introduced, and Donald ducked his head in recognition, handing back the book, before moving to Louie.

“Now hold on guys, we were sure he was dead. In fact, you know what, I’m not buying. How do we know that he’s not a hallucination, a dream, a parallel universe, an illusion from one of our many enemies?” Louie rambled on, his eyes welling up.  
Donald shrugged in a half-hearted way, and clapped Louie on the shoulder. He smiled, and pulled the smaller duckling into a hug.  
“Louie Duck, your nephew.” he conceded, after a moment, seemingly convinced, and said no more, as he parted along with his brothers, to let Webby come forward. 

The bag she had slung over her shoulder lay forgotten on the ground, and she stepped forward, disbelief written all across her features. 

Donald, in a similar stupor to when he first approached Scrooge, stumbled forward and fell back down to his knees. His eye once again filled with shimmering tears, and he waited patiently as Webby walked up to him. He held up his arms, a clear invitation, and Webby leapt into them. 

They embraced for what simultaneously felt like forever, and yet not long enough. When they pulled apart, Donald held her at arm’s length, and brushed away the hair that had fallen in front of her tear-filled eyes.   
“I’m Webby.” she said, her voice wavering “Webbigail Duck. I’m your daughter.”


	24. Alive But Not Whole

The gang had moved into the living room, where Donald sat down, and was immediately surrounded by four ducklings. 

“Donald, lad, what happened to you?” Scrooge asked softly, taking a seat perpendicular to him, and next to Della.

He sighed, and reluctantly brought his shaking hands up and started to form signs with his hands. 

“The moon? I searched the moon!” Scrooge exclaimed

Donald shrugged in response, but Della elbowed Scrooge, and he took notice of the kids.

“Oh right! Umm, kids, why don’t you go help Mrs. Beakley prepare something to eat.” he offered and the four filed out, grumbling, along with Mrs. B, but Donald took the opportunity to bolt, and accompanied the group to the kitchen.

Della and Scrooge exchanged worried looks, and followed them into the adjacent room.

Mrs. B was taking out several foods out of the fridge, while Donald and the kids were crowded around the table. 

“There you are, I thought I might make a favorite of your daughter’s Donald.” Mrs. B, said, putting down several plates each sporting a hamburger on them.

Donald picked up the burger on his plate, and looked to Webby, who mirrored him. He held it up and raised it a hair and smiled, like a toast, and took a bite of it. He chewed, and swallowed it uneasily. A weak smile on his face, while Webby absolutely devoured hers.

“Hey, how about we do something.” Webby piped up, and Dewey was quick to respond

“Yeah, we could play darts!” Dewey suggested, and Donald paled, shaking his head repeatedly. 

“Or we could play a board game.” Huey said,

“With Uncle Scrooge? No thanks.” Louie responded, and Donald nodded in agreement

“Ok, I’ve got it!” Dewey exclaimed, grabbing Donald’s hand and half running down the hall with him. Not a minute later, and Webby found herself at the top of the grand staircase.

“Dewey, are you sure this is a good idea?” Louie asked, as the duckling in question ripped a shield off the nearby suit of armor.

“Of course I’m sure! This’ll be awesome!” he said excitedly, and set the shield on the bannister “Right Uncle Donald?” 

Donald’s beak split open at this, and he nodded hesitantly. At this Dewey jumped up on the balcony, and held the shield up in front of him. He dropped it onto the stone bannister and quickly leapt onto it, riding it like a snowboard down to the bottom of the stairs, and landing perfectly, throwing the shield up with one foot, and catching it. He bowed dramatically as his uncle, brothers, and cousin all clapped for him.

He ran back up the stairs with the shield and held it out to Donald. 

“Here Uncle Donald, do you want to try?” he offered, and Donald took it hesitantly, climbing on top of the bannister with some effort, and holding the shield in front of him, as Dewey had done. He dropped the shield and jumped onto it, but when he started to slide down the railing, his arms flailed wildly, and he fell off, and the momentum sent him flying. He flew right into another suit of armor, and Webby averted her eyes at the ensuing crashing and banging sounds. She looked and saw that her dad was picking his way out of the iron pieces, seemingly unharmed, his hair in his eyes.

Della ran in, investigating the source of the noise, no doubt, and giving one look at Donald before leveling a glare at the kids, who unanimously shrugged.

Donald, meanwhile, stumbled to his feet, swaying for a second, before his face scrunched up, and he almost literally turned green, and ran out of the room.

“Aw Don,” Della said sympathetically, and ran after him, and Webby jumped down the stairs, following quickly after.

They found him in the bathroom, retching up not only the burger, but also wads of black spit, and flecks of bright red blood. 

“Donnie, are you alright?” Della asked, holding his long hair and beard out of the toilet bowl. Donald stumbled to his feet, and wiped his beak on a tissue that she handed him. He held up a weak thumbs up, and the three returned to the kitchen, where Scrooge, Dewey, Huey, Louie, and Beakley all stood, looking worried. 

Donald made a beeline right for the family around the table, and hastily signed out something.

“It’s alright lad, take your time.” Scrooge said softly, brushing stray strands of hair out of Donald’s eyes. “Here, this’ll help, your old room hasn’t been touched, in well, eleven years.” Scrooge admitted, holding out a golden key.

The glitter of the key seemed to awaken something in Donald, and he made signs at a million per minute. Webby didn’t understand any of it, but Scrooge seemed to get the message.

“I’ll make the call.” Scrooge promised, pulling a flip phone out of his inner pocket, and dialing.

“Be sure to get lots of rest Don.” Della gently reminded him, and he nodded in reply, trodding away slowly. 

“Is he gonna be okay?” Webby asked, her brow knitted firmly together. “It’s our fault isn’t it, we shouldn’t have been rushing him into doing stuff.” 

“I don’t deny your part in it, but don’t worry about it. Your father, well, he’s been stranded for years. He just needs some time to rest.” Della assured, and Webby nodded 

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m gonna call it a night.” Louie announced, already heading toward the stairs. The others gave similar scattered salutations, and headed in the same direction, with the exception of Scrooge, who had just gotten off the phone, and Della. 

Webby tried to sleep, she really did, but she found it impossible, her head filled with troubling thoughts. Mostly being those of how her dad ended up with the type of wounds that he showed up with. His leg, his eye, the countless scars, where they could have come from, Webby was sure she didn’t want to ever know. However, there was also a nagging part at the back of her mind, telling her how she had failed her father on the first day that she met him. How she made his already bad condition worse. How she could have got him seriously hurt on the same day of meeting him. How he could be hurt, and just be hiding it.

This was the idea that mainly crowded her mind, and there was nothing she could do to rid herself of it. She couldn’t stand it, laying in her bed, she had to go see him, she had to make sure he was alright. 

She crept out of her room, and made her way to the spire of McDuck Manor. The plan was simple, creep in, make sure he was alright, sneak back out, without anyone being any the wiser. After all, there was no way her father wasn’t asleep by now. 

She approached the door, no light shone from under it, and she turned the handle, slowly cracking it open. The room itself was mainly bare, with bleached white walls, with only a couple of pictures nailed to the wall, a bed pushed up against another wall, and a few scattered pieces of adventuring equipment adorning the ground. But what drew Webby’s attention was the large set of windows, that looked down on the pool, and that was open. 

Just as her line of vision landed on it, a flash of bright white disappeared from the edge of the small balcony, and Webby raced to the edge of the stone ledge and placed her hands on the railing, searching the night for the same white. 

Sure enough, there was Donald, descending the rooftop, and leaping down onto the ground. Webby had half a mind to follow him, but she wasn’t sure she could make it to the ground safely. So instead, she ran as quietly as she could down the several flights of stairs, down the main staircase, and froze.

The light in the sitting room was definitely on, and Webby heard two voices radiating from it. She crept to the edge of the opening into the adjacent room, and peaked in. It was Scrooge and Della, talking. Thankfully, they were facing away from the door and toward the fire. Webby was going to sneak by, when she heard what they were actually saying.

“My men said that there was blood on the floor of the ship. Donald’s blood. Along with a strange blue substance, that Gyro says wasn’t made of anything from Earth. Where did he even get a golden rocket anyway?” Scrooge asked incredulously

“There’s something he isn’t telling us, I can tell, when the kids mentioned darts, that look in his eye, it looked just like…” Della trailed off

“When he came back from the Navy. But it seemed almost worse than that, and I didn’t think that was possible.” Scrooge finished for her, 

It suddenly came to Webby why she was there in the first place, and she darted past the entrance to the room, and found the glass door that led outside. She slid it open quietly, and crept through it, looking wildly around for any sign of where her father could have gone.

When she spotted the figure sitting on the tiled ground. She walked silently forward, seeing the strip of cloth that had covered his eye, and his metal leg both resting on the ground next to him. The bright lines of blue bounced all over his face and he stared into the pool, his leg, and what was left of the other idly resting in the water.  
Webby took a seat to his left, and dipped her own feet into the cool water.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” she asked, and her father nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving the depths of the water. “Are you okay?” she asked, and his slouched position stiffened suddenly “With today, when we crashed you into a wall, and made you sick. Are you alright?” Webby asked, and Donald relaxed immensely, his shoulders falling once more. He turned to face her a touch more, and smirked, and raised an eyebrow.  
“Is that a yes?” she asked, raising an eyebrow of her own, and he nodded slowly, the smile falling from his beak. He gestured to her, and shrugged.  
“Me? Yeah, I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” Webby laughed softly, and her dad shook his head, and gave her another pointed look.  
“You want me to talk about myself?” she asked, and Donald nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Alright, well, umm, huh, this is difficult, well why don’t I tell you about this one adventure with Uncle Scrooge?” Webby offered, and Donald nodded again, letting his hands fall into the water.

“Well, it began when we stumbled across a temple in India…” Webby began, and Donald sat, occasionally providing small reactions to certain parts of the story, as his hands drifted in the pool. When Webby looked at them, she could see the red leaking out of his feathers, surrounding his hands in small wispy tendrils of color being swept away by the small current.

“And Louie says ‘Webby, don’t tell me how to die’ of course I was just trying to keep him out of trouble, but that’s why he hates sand pits especially.” Webby finished, and Donald gave off a small chuckle, as he did, her eyes fell to his left leg. It was scarred, and uneven, a sickly looking light yellow. She glanced back to his eye level as he stopped his breathy, wheezing laugh. But he seemed to notice, and stiffened up again.

He pulled his hands out of the pool, and shook them off, and reached behind him to grab his prosthetic, but Webby placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

“It’s ok. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have stared.” she apologized, and Donald hesitantly returned his hand to his lap, and shrugged.  
“But, you shouldn’t hide them if you don’t want to. They aren’t anything to be ashamed of you know, nothing that might have happened in that terrible place was your fault. Nothing.” Webby assured, and held her arms out for a hug, and Donald turned to put his cloth back over his eye, but stopped, and set it back down, turning to face Webby. His right iris was a pure milky white, and he had a deep burn like a slash across his face. The eye itself didn’t move at all, but Webby paid it no mind, instead leaping back into his arms.

He smiled, as they seperated, and she accidently let out a large yawn. He gestured toward the manor.

“Yeah, I should probably head to bed.” Webby conceded, and Donald nodded, giving her one last quick hug before shooing her away, the blue of the water bouncing off his eyes.  
Webby returned to her room, and drifted to sleep easily, dreaming of nothing.


	25. Tying Up Loose Ends

The daylight streamed through the stained glass window of Webby’s room, a beam of blue light falling on her face, as she woke slowly. She blinked, her eyelids still heavy, and smacked her beak to dispel the midnight dryness. 

She sat up in her bed, a savory smell filled the air that propelled her out of her bed, and out of her room, down towards the kitchen. She expected to see Mrs. Beakley at the stove, but instead, it was her father. Dressed in a fresh black sailor’s suit, his hair tied up into a messy ponytail, his beard tucked into an apron that he was sporting. He was flipping paper thin crepes in a pan, with a large stack of them already on a plate next to him. He seemed better than yesterday, a faint smile on his beak, and his feathers, they seemed whiter somehow, maybe it was just a trick of the light.

He waved to her as she came in, and she noticed that he was sporting a strip of gauze over his eye this morning. He gestured to the table, where the rest of the family was already seated, the triplets, Scrooge, Launchpad, Della, and Mrs. B were all there with bowls of fruit, and a cream and cottage cheese filling the table. Donald came in from the kitchen just as Webby sat down, carrying a large plate of crepes, he sat it down in the middle of the table and draped his apron on the back of his chair, before taking a seat between Scrooge and Webby. 

Everyone dug into the breakfast with the exception of the cook himself, who sat contentedly watching everyone else eat. Scrooge took note of this, and exchanged a worried look with Della. 

“Wow Uncle Donald, this is really good!” Dewey commented and the others gave scattered agreements.

“Yeah, where did you learn to cook this well?” Huey asked reverently, and Della gave a look to Donald nodded in response.

“Well, when we were 14 your Great Grandmother tried to teach us how to cook. Don here, caught onto it like a wildfire. Me though, well I may or may not have burned down half the kitchen. But, on the bright side, we did get to learn about home remodeling right after that. Which I still wasn’t terribly great at, but still.” Della said optimistically “Honestly, Don really had the edge down on the farm.” to which Donald raised an eyebrow and made a sound that seemed like it wanted to be a throat clear, but sounded too strangled to be as such.  
“Except for that time that he blew up the tractor, and I had to fix it.” Della chuckled at the memory, and Donald nodded sagely.

“Say Donnie lad, I was thinking you should see a doctor, today.” Scrooge said, semi uncomfortable, and Donald shrugged in response. 

“In fact, we uh, already set up something with Gyro, and his assistant, if anyone knows what any side effects would be it would be him.” Della announced and Donald’s eye practically popped out of his skull with the look he was giving his twin.

“Now, I know how you feel about Gyro, but he’s the only one with the know how.” Scrooge convinced

“Besides, Fenton can usually reel him in if nothing else.” Huey added, and Donald looked around for anyone to support him, his eyes finally landing on his daughter next to him, his eye pleading.

“I’m sorry, but I think you should see Gyro. Just to make sure nothing’s wrong, I just got you back.” Webby pleaded, putting on her best wide eyed, convincing face. Donald grimaced, but nodded slowly, and then nodded at Scrooge.

“Great, well I thought we could all head over to the money bin together.” Scrooge explained “Launchpad, you have the limo, right?” he turned to address Launchpad, who was staring at a rolled up crepe.

“It’s like a burrito, but not. I mean, ahem, sure do Mr. McDee!” Launchpad exclaimed cheerily. 

“Alright, Don, Della, when you’re ready.” Scrooge said, leaving the table, and Della nodded jumping up, abandoning her plate, but Donald was a little slower, giving his daughter a hug, and a small wave as he left the room. 

Della, Scrooge, and Don all piled into the back of the limo as Launchpad took the driver’s seat. The drive to the money bin was as haphazard as ever, with Donald holding onto the handle on the roof of the car with both hands while the driver made his trademark tight turns and near crashes. By the time they made it to the bin, Don was shaking a bit, and Della put her hands on his shoulders trying to ease him, leading him toward the entrance of the bin.

They made their way down the elevator, and into the recently repaired secret underwater lab. Where two individuals jumped up and scattered, trying to throw pieces of white metal under worktables and the like, before Gyro, and Fenton came stumbling forward. 

“Donald, it’s been a long time.” Gyro observed coldly, holding out his hand for the sailor to shake, Donald took it warily, staring down the chicken before he turned his attention to Fenton.

“Oh hey, Mr. Duck, I’m Fenton, I’m your nephew’s friend.” he stammered out, and Don turned back to Della raising an eyebrow, who shrugged as if she hadn't met the scientist before. Don’s eye settled back on Fenton, and he held out his hand for the poor young scientist to shake.

“So, gentlemen, should we get started?” Gyro asked, as Fenton led Donald behind a door into a more secluded part of the lab. Donald looked back, panic in his eye, and Della offered a thumbs up. It’s all she could offer really, she had patched her fair share of wounds, but those were all just temporary fixes until she could get to a real doctor, and Donald’s medical skills weren’t much better than hers. Yet, for eleven years he had to deal with his eye, and losing a leg, and whatever else he had faced up there, all alone. So now, they had to hand him over, to someone who actually knew what they were doing, they had already filled Gyro in on the details. All they had to do now was wait.

It could have been hours, or maybe just minutes, Della didn’t know, she just knew that the waiting was excruciating. Still, she had to be strong, so that Don could get the help he needed.

However, when the strangled yells, and grunts started sounding from inside the room Della was very tempted to bust in there, even more so when Gyro came out, plastic gloves stained with blood. 

“Well the good news is that we definitely know what’s wrong with him.” Gyro announced, as the two sprung to their feet.

“What is it?” Scrooge asked, his worry showing through

“Well, umm, his leg and eye were fined, they had healed just fine, if a little roughly. There was no internal bleeding like you thought, so we think his coughing up blood was from his throat injury.”

“His throat injury?!” Della exclaimed

“Yes, some blunt force trauma that caused his throat to bleed, and rendered him practically invocal. Fortunately, it shouldn’t be permanent. As for that black substance, that’s to be expected, the Oxy-Chew was never meant to be used long-term, and the substance in the Spear was a prototype. That being said, I’m glad you came in when you did, otherwise his chest wound would have become far more severe. Apparently he was somehow impaled, and cauterized the wound. We had to reopen it to stitch it properly.” he gestured to his bloodstained gloves. “Besides that, we found a few third degree burns, a dislocated shoulder that seemed to heal well enough. So, as long as he doesn’t do anything insane in the next week or so, he should be fine.” 

“Wait, you stitched his wound? Since when can you do that?” Della asked, relieved to hear that her brother was in a reasonable state.

“Well, me and my assistant have had a lot of ‘first-hand experience’ recently with first aid.” he said sheepishly, and Della would definitely have to look into that later.

“Speaking of.” Fenton announced his presence by fishing a bag of ice out of the fridge they had there, and pressing it against a quickly darkening shiner. “Your brother sure can swing Della.”

“What happened?” Della implored, and Fenton chuckled

“Well, uhh, when I opened his wound, his fist shot out almost on instinct, and, well.” Fenton gestured to his eye. Della would be concerned for him, but only a second later, Donald stumbled out of the room, and her attention was immediately focused on her brother.

He looked about ten times worse than he did going in. He was sluggish, a real bandage over his eye, and a raised part of his shirt where she assumed the bandage for his chest wound was, he had also let his hair down somewhere along the way, and his hair was in his face. 

“Don, are you alright lad?” Scrooge asked worriedly, rising to meet him, and he shook his head slowly. “You said he’ll be fine?” he sharply addressed the two scientists who nodded, and turned back to his nephew “Come on Don, let’s get you back home.” 

Scrooge insisted that Donald put at least some of his weight on him, as they made their way back outside, where Launchpad was waiting. They got him into the limo without too much fuss, and he fell asleep on the long ride back to the manor. 

When they made it back though, it was as if the old Donald was back from the grave- no! Bad analogy. No, it was like he was doing everything in his power to ignore Gyro’s warning to take it easy. Which considering their history, was completely possible. 

Whatever the reason, Donald was running around with the kids as they sprinted around the house, shooting darts at one another, stopping to watch reruns of that weird furniture show, and running around some more. However, only a few hours in Donald gave into Della and Scrooge’s instructions and sat down on the couch. Della sympathized, she knew he wanted to spend time with the kids, but expending all his energy at once was a bad idea. So he sat next to Louie who was busy doodling in his notebook. 

After a minute or two of sitting in silence, he tapped Louie, on the shoulder, and pointed to a blank page of the notebook.

“You want a page?” Louie guessed, and Donald nodded enthusiastically, Louie tore a page out, and handed it to him, along with a pencil. He scribbled on it for a second before showing it to Della.

‘I’ve been thinking, we should go on an adventure.’ it read, and Della looked up, surprised.

“Are you sure? You’ve only been back a couple days.” Della said, worried, and Donald nodded.  
“Alright, let’s see what Uncle Scrooge says.”


	26. First Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donald goes on an adventure with the kids.

“No absolutely not, Donald you just got back.” Scrooge refused, faced by an expectant triplets, Della, and Webby “Besides, I have to go on a business trip reinforcing the Ludwig Doomsday Vault. Speaking of, Della, Launchpad is out of town, can you fly me there?” 

“Sure Scrooge, I’ll go with you. Sorry Don, better luck next time. ” Della said, and the two packed a light bag before leaving.

The Sunchaser took off into the sky, and the group of five watched, as it flew away. Webby looked to her father who waited until the plane was out of sight before he took a small notebook and pen out of his pocket and quickly jotted something down. He turned it towards the group of four.

‘So, who wants to go on an adventure, and not tell your uncle?’ it read, and Donald smiled, and looked the four in the eyes expectedly.

“I’m in.” Dewey was the first to chip in

“Me too.” Webby added

“Why not?” Louie shrugged

“What did you have in mind?” Huey asked, and Donald jerked his head toward the driveway, they did have to walk after all.

Not an hour later, they found themselves on the deck of a McDuck Industries boat.

“Whose boat is this anyway?” Louie asked, looking around at the clean white metal that comprised the vessel.

“Seems like a fishing ship, made to go into rougher seas.” Huey guessed, and Donald nodded.

Donald untied the rope attaching the boat to the harbor, and made his way to the engine room, the smoke stacks letting out a stream of steam as the boat pushed off the dock, out the harbor, and into the open sea. 

Webby, and Dewey followed him into the control room, as Huey played more shanties somewhere else, and Louie sharpened the golden khopesh he had insisted on bringing with him on every adventure since the Battle of Duckburg. Donald was charting a course on a large map that he had spread over a table. 

“So, unofficial sea captain Dewey here. Where exactly are we going?” Donald looked up from the admittedly waverley line that he was drawing, and quirked an eyebrow. He held out the pencil to Dewey and gestured to the map as an open invitation, and Webby chuckled, sure that Dewey would give the pencil back sheepishly, with some less than witty remark to try and salvage his pride. However, instead, Dewey gave a grin to his uncle, and took the pencil. He studied the map closely, and traced with his finger several possible island destinations, going off of the line that Donald already drew.

“Hmm, these three are all owned by famous millionaires, and we’ve already been to that one, which leaves...Lochhaven. Is that it?” Dewey completed the line, and looked expectedly up at Donald, only to find a disapproving eye staring back down at him. 

Uh-oh. Was he not supposed to guess? What was he going to do? Five minutes in and he already screwed up. Should he apologize? Yeah, that usually worked with Scrooge, he just needed to admit he was wrong. He looked his uncle in the eye, and a million things to say raced through his mind, but he couldn’t think of a good one. He was about one second away from just going with one, before Donald broke, and burst out laughing. Or at least Dewey thinks it’s laughter, it was sort of hard to tell, but his uncle was doubled over wheezing with a smile on his face, so Dewey assumes it’s laughter. 

His uncle straightened up, wiping a tear from his eye, his beak still split in a grin. He winked at Dewey (it was slow and deliberate, Dewey was pretty sure it was a wink) and ruffled the feathers on his head, before taking the map, turning (his ponytail almost hitting Dewey in the face) and propping it up near the steering wheel, setting course for Lochhaven. 

He looked back at Dewey and Webby, lightly jerking his head motioning them forward. He straightened the large steering wheel before stepping back, and gesturing to it, letting Webby and Dewey forward, with the latter grasping it first. 

“Awesome.” Dewey breathed out, as he gripped two handles at opposite ends of the wheel, and spun it, with a mighty tug. The wheel spun, making it a couple rotations before thunking to a halt. The sea in front of them shifted as the boat turned sharply, almost throwing them off their feet. Dewey took a step back from the wheel, panic evident in his eyes toward his uncle.

Donald however, seemed unperturbed. He took a step forward, and took Dewey’s hands in his own, and placing them back on the handles. He hovered over his nephew’s shoulder, and pointed out a small display near the wheel. It listed their position with latitude and longitude. Donald then showed him the map, and the line Dewey drew, pointing to the similar latitude and longitude markers on the map. How they didn’t match the numbers on the display. He stepped back again, and Dewey focused on the task at hand.

He edged the ship’s wheel in the opposite direction than he had initially thrown it. Carefully watching the computer display as the coordinates slowly increased and decreased respectively, creeping closer to the matching the numbers on the map. 

Dewey overshot it by a hair, turning the wheel a bit too far, bringing the coordinates a bit off of what they needed to be, but he inched it back into place, finally matching the four numbers with one another. Dewey turned triumphantly to his uncle, who was absolutely beaming. He ruffled the feathers on Dewey’s head again before leaning back, half sitting on the metal table, making a show of putting his hands behind his head, and leaning backwards even more. Dewey focused on steering the ship, (his uncle was trusting Dewey, he couldn’t mess it up!) watching the serene expanse of blue that lay before him. 

As for Donald, it only took him a second to notice Webby standing by herself, watching Dewey steer the boat. She turned to glance at him, and he jerked his head, and patted the spot next to him, a silent invitation. She took it, sitting on the table next to him, they sat in silence for a second before Donald held up his palm, and a closed fist sitting on top of it, tapping his palm. The two played rock, paper, scissors, and other such activities, whiling the hours away, as Dewey diligently watched the water, adjusting the wheel when necessary, with the other nephews popping in once in a while.

It was Huey who spotted the island first. The misty spot of land in the distance grew closer and clearer with every passing minute. The island was comprised of jagged grey rocks and mountains, with sparse small patches of green dispersed amongst them. Donald got up, and laid a gentle hand on Dewey’s shoulder. Smiling reassuringly at him, but leading him away from the wheel, and toward the table, where Webby still sat. Dewey took a seat next to her, and Donald pulled them both into a quick hug, and ruffled Dewey’s feathers, before taking the wheel.

Unlike Dewey’s hesitant rotations of the wheel, Donald’s were smooth, broad, confident, yet precise. He pulled the boat right up the uneven coast, perfectly aligning the deck with a small cliff, and cutting the engines, running out of the room, and dropping the anchor off the side of the boat. 

The nephews and daughter gathered around him, as he walked to the side of the ship that stood a few feet from the cliff. He took in a deep breath, taking in the foggy, and mysterious atmosphere of the island.

“So…I probably should have asked this earlier. But what exactly are we here for?” Louie asked

“Well, Lochhaven is rumored to be the final resting place of famed conquistador Alonso de Albatross. Who is said to have died with a large portion of Incan gold and silver on this very island. Many have searched for it, many have died for it, none have found it.” Huey read out of his JWG. Donald smiled, and held out a clenched fist, Huey bumped it.

Donald brought his metal leg up with his hand, and set it on the metal railing, with a clang. He pushed his other leg up, balancing on the railing, teetering for a second, and getting several gasps out of the four kids, before jumping the few feet, and landing on the cliff edge. He turned with a smirk planted on his beak, and held out his arms, indicating that he’ll catch them. 

Dewey went first, getting a leg-up from Huey, and leaping right into Donald, who caught him expertly. The process repeated for everyone, except for Huey, who had to drag over a box to get onto the railing, Donald set him safely on the ground, and the adventuring five moved down the cliff. 

“What are we doing Huey?” Louie asked, as they navigated their way down the rocky cliff edge.

“Well, Alonso was said to have died in a shipwreck during a storm. So we would be looking for ruins from the sixteenth century. Probably a large galleon, coming from the southern coast of Calisota.” Huey explained, and the five reached the bottom of the cliff, and subsequently, the beach. 

Donald nodded at Huey, and licked his finger, testing the wind, before pulling out a compass and examining it, his eye scanning the horizon, looking for some answer. He seemed to find it, as he turned to the kids, and gestured for them to follow him, not before giving Huey another fist bump.

He led them down the beach, the waves lapping at their webbed feet, as they made imprints in the sand. Donald seemed to know exactly where he was going, as he led them directly behind a group of rocks. There was a series of tunnels behind them, and Donald distributed flashlights, before leading the way down the winding stone pathways.

“Whoah.” Webby breathed out, as the cramped tunnels ended, and the five stepped out into a massive open cavern, with a massive opening on one end, blinding sunlight streaming through it. But, the largest feature of the damp cave was the massive pile of wood in the center, it was undoubtedly a ship, although it was missing half of its planks, and the ship was split down the middle. 

“Alonso’s ship.” Huey gasped, and flipped to a blank page in his JWG, quickly sketching out the shipwreck, and the surrounding cave with his pencil “That storm must have blown his ship right through that opening and into here. How did you know that it would be here Uncle Donald?” 

Donald smiled, and shrugged knowingly, miming his measuring of the wind again. Before ushering them forward, walking through the shallow puddles and wet sand toward the wreck. 

Donald pried some boards off the side of the ship, making an opening into the wreck. They walked through, stepping over bleached bones of long dead sailors, rotting planks, and rusted scraps of metal, searching the ship for anything of value.

They found it above deck.

It had started out with them finding a ladder that led directly to the top deck. The boards creaked as they put any weight on them, and Donald motioned for them to be careful and slow as they made their way across to a portion of the ship that had to be the captain’s quarters. 

Donald let Webby lead the way, as she cracked the door open, expecting the unexpected. There could be anything guarding the treasure, giant sea monsters, pirates, skeletons, ghosts, skeleton-ghost-pirates, you never knew what would happen on an adventure like this. Everyone tensed as she let the door swing open with an ominous creak and… absolutely nothing happened.

Instead, sitting in the middle of the room was a large chest, with a skeleton draped over it, presumably being that of ol’ Alonso himself. The five creeped into the room, expecting a trap to be sprung at any moment. Donald moved toward the chest, and poked the skeleton with his flashlight, as if he expected it to spring to life. It didn’t, and instead it slid off of the smooth wood and iron of the chest, clattering to the floor. 

Donald inspected the chest, looking at the rusted lock that kept it closed. He twirled the flashlight around in his hand, and hit the lock with the metal flashlight. It gave way, the rust having compromised the integrity of the iron, and fell to the ground. Donald gripped the edges of the chest lid, and lifted it up, releasing a cloud of dust, and stretching cobwebs, but revealing a gleaming horde of golden coins. Louie took a sharp breath in, and Donald turned his neck to look back at them, a smile on his face. He closed the chest, and picked up one end of the chest, Webby grabbing the other end, and walked awkwardly out of the cabin. 

It got a little trickier when they wanted to get it to the ground safely. It was too heavy to carry down the ladder, and too fragile to just drop.

“Wait, I’ve got it!” Huey exclaimed, after they had been sitting there for a few minutes “We take the vines growing on the walls, and use them like rope to lower the chest!”

Donald nodded, and then laid a hand each on Dewey and Webby’s shoulders, before pointing to the vines. He pointed to Louie, and then toward the ground of the cave. Webby and Dewey pulled the vines off the wall, as Louie stood at the bottom. It only took a minute to pull off their plan. Dewey and Webby gave the vines to Huey and Donald, who secured the chest. Dewey pushed it off the deck as Don, and Huey manned the vine, and Webby, and Louie waited at the bottom to catch it. Donald, and Huey lowered the chest slowly, letting an inch at a time slip through their hands before tightening their grip.

It worked without a hitch. Webby, Dewey, and Louie taking the weight of the treasure as it reached their level. Donald and Huey untied the vines, and carried it with them, along with a few longboards from the wreck, as they walked back to the ship. 

They made it to the top of the cliff, before the gap between the island and the ship occurred to them as being a problem. Fortunately, Donald and Huey seemed to have anticipated it as they lashed the boards together with vines, forming a makeshift gangplank. Donald insisted on taking on the chest across the plank by himself, plunking the heavy wooden box on the main deck of the ship. He then held the plank as the other four crossed it. Giving Huey a fistbump as he hopped down onto the deck, and helped him pull the wood onto their ship. 

Donald raised the anchor, and they returned to the control room, Louie sitting in the corner counting and valuing their finds, Huey, Webby, and Donald wasting time in whatever way they could think of, as Dewey steered their ship, keeping them on course for Duckburg harbor. 

That’s when the real trouble started.

It started off fairly harmless, the sky darkened as black clouds gathered, covering the sun, the waves getting choppy, as the water turned an ominous grey. Dewey still steered the ship, depending completely on the map, and the electronic equipment. Then the rain started, pouring down in torrents, lightning crackling in brilliant flashes of light and clashes of thunder.

“Uncle Donald? WHAT IS THAT!!” Dewey screamed, and Donald ran toward him, looking out the viewport. The sea was rough, yet pitch black, the darkness impenetrable, until a bolt of lightning split the sky, illuminating a massive galleon with midnight black wood, and blood red sails, it was half submerged, lifting up through the waves. Donald’s eye widened, and he seized the wheel from Dewey, spinning it, sending the kids straight off their feet.

“What is that thing?” Webby asked, the fear evident in her voice. There was something about that ship that sent a shiver down her spine, just seeing it felt...unnatural. 

“It can’t be… it’s supposed to be a myth. The Flying Dutchman.” Huey gasped

Donald nodded curtly in confirmation, trying to put his focus on the wheel, and the rough seas. He spun the wheel with the touch of a master, constantly adjusting and adapting.

“The Flying Dutchman?” Dewey asked, the ship kept disappearing and reappearing in blinding flashes of lightning, going all over his field of view. It was almost like it was teleporting. 

“The carrier of the souls of those who die at sea. The captain of which, is the fearsome Davy Jones.” Huey explained, looking up just in time to see the side of the ship appear right in front of the bow, and a plume of fire and smoke flashed from the galleon. 

Donald saw it coming, turned, and dived toward them, bringing all five of them to the ground as a ball of iron zoomed over their heads, and bore a clean hole through the white metal. They got up, checking that the Dutchman hadn’t made another surprise appearance, the hole behind them was a perfect circle, and the control panel was sparking, shattered glass coating the floor.

They ran out onto the deck, the torrential rain stung against their faces, and waves crashing against the sides of the ship, splashing them with sea spray, as they stared into the distance trying to see the next attack coming. 

They failed miserably.

Cannon fire resounded through the storm, as loud as thunder and a thousand times more destructive. Balls of pure iron ripped into the sides of the ship. The Dutchman seemed to be in ten places at once, firing from every direction. Fires sprang up across the ship, and Donald covered the kids, as an explosion rocked the ship, and it started to tip, throwing them on their backs. The ship started to sink into the ocean, as the Dutchman approached them, illuminated by the inferno, and they finally got a good look at it. It wasn’t sailing on the waves, it was floating over them, the peaks of the tide only brushing the pitch black boards. 

Donald looked desperate, his eye taking around his surroundings wildly. He pointed to themselves and then to the Dutchman.

“You want to board the ship trying to kill us?! That’s insane!” Louie yelled over the wild wind and rain

“We don’t have a choice, it’s the only way!” Huey insisted, as the ship drew nearer. Donald, hoisted a small bag over his shoulder, then picked them up, two kids under each arm, and walked to the bow of the ship. He tensed his metal leg, and leapt, flying through the air, and landing hard on the cursed deck of the Flying Dutchman. Setting down the kids and the bag, before a barnacle encrusted sword was pointed at his throat. 

Donald looked up, and was met by the hard glare of the immortal Davy Jones himself. The legendary captain was a hulking skeletal mass, he was at least twice as tall as Donald, his sharp short bone beak dirty white, tatters of a blue coat hanging off his shoulders, his eye sockets empty. Barnacles, pieces of kelp, and sea plant life covered his skeleton, and seaweed hung off his chin like a beard. A large water logged hat sat on his skull.

“Donald Duck. I smelt your foul stench from all the way across the seven seas.” Davy Jones snarled, his jaw bone clicking as his echoing, haunting voice rang out, and a dozen other swords surrounded them, with a dozen skeletons holding them, all in similar disarray to that of their captain.

“Wait, you know Davy Jones?!” Dewey exclaimed

“Know? Donald Duck stole two souls from me, escaped, and then destroyed my ship.” Davy Jones sneered.

“You sure you don’t have your ducks crossed? Your ship looks pretty whole to me.” Louie pointed out.

“Ha, boy, this ship is cursed, it cannot be destroyed permanently, nor can it ever find harbor.” the cursed captain confirmed “Yet drowned souls cannot be recovered until they find their way to my ship once more. So I’ve perused the oceans for eleven years, waiting for a chance to take my revenge. And now it’s finally here. Donald Duck, take your last breath of sea air, you’re about to become a permanent member of the crew.” Davy Jones lifted up his sword, the blade igniting with a ghostly green fire, ready to strike a fatal blow, but Donald wasn’t going to go out that easily, he grabbed the leg of one of the skeletons, and pulled him down, grabbing his sword, and blocking Jones’ swing. 

The fight broke out a second after, Louie drawing his khopesh, and Donald beheaded one of the skeletons, their bones clattering to the ship, as well as their cutlasses. Dewey picked it up as Webby and Huey fought off the crew with their bare hands. Donald went blade to blade with Davy Jones, their swords blocking and slashing with the speed and precision of lightning clashing.

Louie and Dewey blocked and parried with their blades, as Webby knocked some heads together, and Huey took calculated attacks, taking out leg bones, and ripping off sword arms. Donald and Jones walked up and down the deck of the ship as they fenced, the rain pouring down, Donald was backed into a mast, but smiled, grabbing onto a rope and cutting it, sending him straight up, and balanced on the slippery wood of the sail beam. Davy Jones snarled, and cut another rope, propelling him onto the same beam. 

“Your time on this mortal plane is over Donald!” Davy yelled, swinging his sword again, Donald blocked it, but he was slipping, he didn’t have stable footing, and it was showing. Davy Jones smiled menacingly, and increased the speed and intensity of each attack, Donald fell onto his back, and his sword fell to the deck far below.

“Times up. Meet your destiny.” Davy Jones growled, his burning blade poised to strike.

“NOOO!!” Webby screamed, as her father’s sword fell to the deck in front of her. But then screamed in pain, as a searing pain sliced against her left arm. Davy Jones just smiled, a cruel cold smile, and stabbed toward Donald’s chest.

But Donald Duck would not be defeated. His daughter was in pain, the kids were in trouble. For the first time in years, he felt that righteous fury flowing through his veins. He caught the sword just before it buried itself in his abdomen, the sharp blade cutting his hands as the unearthly fire burnt them. In the brief microsecond of the captain’s shock, he brought the blade into the mast of the ship, and kicked the immortal in the pelvic bone, knocking him backward, and letting go of his sword.

Donald leapt up, and pried the cutlass from the mast. With one swift swipe, he severed the vertebrae of his skull, sending his sentient head, down onto the ship deck. He sent a blow into his ribcage, and the headless behemoth fell into the dark waves below. 

He gripped the sword, and leapt off the mast, catching the blade in the scarlet sails, and sliding down, cutting a line down the canvas, and setting fire to them. He fell to the dark wood and cut a few skeletons down the middle, clearing the last of the undead from the kids. He embedded the blade into the wood, orange fire quickly spreading over the galleon as Donald grabbed the yellow bag, and gathered the kids next to him. He pulled a cord on the bag, and a yellow raft immediately inflated. They leapt onto it, and fell into the cold water below. They drifted away, carried by the tide, as the Dutchman burned.

“I will get you for this Donald Duck!” Davy Jones’ echoey voice rang out through the storm, and the ferry of the dead disappeared in a flash of unearthly green light. The storm vanished with it, the water becoming serene and blue as the sun shone through the clouds, dispelling the rain and lightning. 

Donald looked the kids up and down. They all were shivering, but that was to be expected, the Dutchman carried with it a sense of unease, not to mention the cold. They were all a little scuffed up, except for Webby, whose blood formed a thin line on her left upper arm, and trailed down, staining her white feathers. Donald tore off one of the sleeves of his black sailor’s uniform, and wrapped it tightly around her injury. She seemed close to crying, her eyes filled with tears, either from the pain, or...something else.

“Good news guys, this was not a complete loss. Behold, Alonso’s gold!” Louie proclaimed dramatically, spilling golden doubloons from his hoodie pocket. However, his moment of triumph was met with only groans, and Dewey providing a weak thumbs up. 

“Look, there’s the coast!” Huey called out, and indeed, there was the gleaming city of Duckburg in the distance. Donald steeled himself to dip his injured hands in the salt water to paddle, but before he could, his hands were taken, and lifted up by Webby, who stared at them. They each sported a gouge across his palm, a dark red of burnt blood. Webby tore strips of pink cloth from her own sleeves, and wrapped each hand, tying the bandage tightly on each. Donald smiled, and nodded as a low hum in the distance gradually grew louder, it was a boat, Coast Guard by the looks of it. It drew closer, and the engine died, a friendly looking dog stood on the deck in a crisp uniform.

“You guys need some help?” he called out, not waiting for an answer as he lowered a ladder into the water. They abandoned the plastic raft, and swam to the ladder, both father and daughter wincing as they entered the water.

Huey did all the talking, and in only a minute, they were on their way to Duckburg harbor. Huey, Dewey and Louie were at the front of the boat, anxious to get back, with Louie counting the gold he made out with, and Huey filling out a new page of his JWG. Meanwhile, Donald and Webby were sitting on the floor of the deck, leaning against the railing, as light sea spray hit them. Donald looked as his daughter worriedly, she still seemed on the edge of tears, but he couldn’t think as to why. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up, tears glistening in her eyes for a moment before she launched herself at Donald, wrapping her arms around him as sobs wracked her frame. Donald reciprocated the hug, feeling her tears fall onto his shoulder. 

“I-I thought I lost you. R-right after getting you back.” she sobbed “I can’t live without you again. I can’t.” Donald hugged her even tighter, trying to tell her that he was here, he was never going to go anywhere. He rocked her slightly, rubbing her back, and stroking her hair soothingly. Her breathing eventually slowed, though it was still shaky.  
“Thanks Dad. I love you.” she spoke softly, into her father’s ear. And was met with a shaky, and broken voice, rasping,

“I love you too.”


	27. The Curse Of The Cousin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to @AnxiouslyCreative who wrote a lovely little holiday piece set in the same AU as this one.

Webby revelled in the embrace for a few seconds longer before pushing lightly away from her dad, dropping her arms and wiping the water from her eyes. His hands rested on her shoulders, and he gave her a watery smile, tears flowing freely down his beak.

“Since when can you talk?” she asked, giggling lightly

He raised his hand and shook it, shrugging.

“Well good enough for me.” she laughed weakly, and Dewey came walking into their part of the ship, taking a pause when he saw them kneeling on the deck of the ship. Donald beckoned him over though, and pulled him, and Webby down back into the hug. 

“So, uh, I was here to tell you that we’re about to dock.” Dewey’s muffled voice came from the middle of the group hug, Donald got up from the floor, breaking the embrace. 

They walked to the front of the boat, where Louie and Huey stood, their hands hanging off the railing. They turned, and were immediately scooped into a massive hug by their uncle. 

“Oof, hi.” Huey grunted, and Louie made a noise of protest as they were pulled into the hug. Donald gathered his nephews in one arm, and his daughter in the other. For the first time in years, or maybe the first time ever, he felt… well, he didn’t really know how to describe it, but it was amazing.

“Mr. Duck and family? We’ve docked, you’re all free to go.” the same sailor from earlier appeared, just as the family hug dispersed. They all straightened up, and filed off of the boat. The warm planks of the dock had never felt better against Donald’s feet, and Louie made a show of kissing them, proclaiming his love for solid ground. He was hoisted to his feet by Huey, after all, they had quite the walk ahead of them.

They trudged through the metropolis of Duckburg, the sun burning in their eyes as it dipped below the horizon. The streets were mainly empty, only a few pedestrians giving them strange looks as, what must’ve looked like, a one eyed hippie, and a gaggle of dirty children walked down the street. 

They made it to McDuck Manor, and promptly remembered that they had no one to open the gate for them. They ended up having to climb the fence, Donald’s metal foot got stuck on the spikes, making him trip and fall into a bush.

By the time they made it to the front door of the manor, they were absolutely exhausted, and Donald knocked on the door by banging his head on it, too tired to raise his arm. But, it was a good kind of tired, the kind of tired that was looked back on fondly, not the kind that- no he promised himself he wouldn’t think about that, he was home now, that’s what mattered. 

Although come to think of it, Donald doesn’t think he’s been this scared of anything the way he was scared of his twin right now. 

“Donald Duck, where in tarnation have you been!” she screeched, and Donald winced, this wasn’t going to be pretty “Not only have you been gone for over a day, but Scrooge finds out that you took one of his ships to do it. And you four!” she rounded on the kids “If you want to go on an adventure that’s fine, but you have to tell somebody first. And Donald doesn’t count. Besides, you know that he’s not fit for adventuring yet, he could have gotten more hurt than he already is! I thought that at least one of you was more responsible than that.” she sighed, her voice losing its high pitch and volume “There’s no point in trying to ground you is there? I’m glad you’re home safe. Now go clean up, and go to bed early, you look like you need it.” the kids filed into the manor, and Donald followed them only to be stopped by Della “As for you. You are going to get a shower, go to bed, and get a good night’s sleep. Oh, don’t give me that look, Don, I know you haven’t been sleeping recently. And dammit Donald if I have to watch you sleep just to make sure you actually rest then I will. Now go to bed.” she pointed sharply at Donald, and he shuffled off, following the kids upstairs. 

Yeesh, he knew that his twin raised four kids for the last eleven years, but wow. She really became a mother hen didn’t she? She definitely wasn’t the pilot he had left all those years ago. Then again, that Della wanted to go to space with three ducklings on the way, so it certainly wasn’t all bad. 

He passed the door to the triplet’s room, and heard talking from inside, including his daughter’s voice. Huh, looks like they weren’t gonna listen to Della either, he knocked softly on the door and didn’t wait for a response before he opened the door. The kids were sitting in a circle, with something shiny in the middle, Donald didn’t get a good look though, since Louie dived to the floor, covering it with his body. 

“Uncle Donald, what are you doing here?” Louie squeaked, and Donald closed the door, and took a seat in the circle, quirking an eyebrow, waiting expectantly for an explanation.

“C’mon Louie, there’s no point in doing this, they’ll go to the money bin, and that’ll be that.” Webby said, pushing Louie off of, what was revealed to be, a gleaming pile of gold coins. 

“Ugh, fine. There it is. Go ahead take it to Scrooge.” Louie sighed, gesturing to the coins. Donald was confused, they got this treasure, why would they give it to Scrooge? He cleared his throat, and forced himself to speak.

“Why Scrooge?” he rasped, and Louie looked taken aback.

“Why would you give it to Scrooge?” he clarified, and Donald nodded, “Well, like he always says ‘all treasure goes to the bin, not next of kin’.” he did his best scottish accent, and Donald couldn’t help but laugh. Well, it sounded more like a wheeze, but it was a laugh. So, Scrooge was taking away all the treasure from his family that they earned on adventures. In Donald’s day, he only took away most of it, with the twins allowed to take a small cut of the loot. 

In fact, he was kind’ve insulted that his nephew thought that he would just give into their uncle like that. But, it did provide a great opportunity for Donald to prove them wrong, so he gathered up the coins and quickly counted them, there were thirteen coins total, perfect.

He picked up one of the coins, and held it up to the light, it was emblazoned with the face of an Aztec ruler on both sides, and glimmered in the electric glow. He pocketed it, and gathered the rest of the coins in his arm. Louie looked away, crossing his arms grumpily, before three coins were set in front of him. He looked up, surprised, and Donald gave him a conspiratorial wink, setting three coins in front of each kid. 

“Whoah, thanks Uncle Donald.” Huey said, excitedly examining his share.

“Equal work. Equal pay.” he shrugged, although he really needed to get a glass of water, his throat was killing him. But the scattered thanks he got from the kids was worth all the pain and more. 

He decided to leave them to it, and got off the floor, lightly dusting himself off, before walking out the door. He headed up the endless stairs, making his way to the tower. 

Donald creaked open the door at the top of the stairs, stepping into the nondescript whitewashed room. When he moved out at eighteen, it hadn’t been on the best of terms with his uncle or sister. He had taken all his belongings with him, but Scrooge painted his old room white, and used it as storage space out of pure spite ever since. 

He didn’t bother to turn on the lights, and flopped down on the spare mattress, groaning into the sheets. What were the chances of Della and Scrooge letting him go on another adventure anytime soon? Not likely.

Oh well, at least he still had his family. Although both Della and Scrooge seemed to be avoiding him for some reason. Well, at least he had the kids, they were a right delight to be around, especially his daughter. His imagination on the moon did not do reality any justice, when it came to any of the kids. They were funny, talented, and they were his family, he couldn’t ask for more. 

That being said, he really wished that he could actually sleep at night. At least during the day he had something to distract him, at night all he had was himself, the stars and his memories. 

He sighed, at least he could tell himself and his sister that he tried to sleep. He opened the window, and climbed out onto the roof. He laid back on the slanted shingles, and did his best not to look up at the starry night. He pulled out the Aztec coin, the coin glinting in the moonli- no, he can’t think about that. He won’t think about that. He decided not to spend the night outside, pulling himself up through the window ledge. 

He walked through the endless halls of the manor, looking for something to focus on for the twelve or so hours. He headed down the main staircase, making sure to avoid the creakey ones, the last thing he needed right now was to wake anyone up.

He turned down the hallway, passing by the countless dusty, cobweb filled, unoccupied rooms. He turned the coin in his hands, feeling the warm metal, the object already carried so many good memories. It was a memento of him and the kids' first adventure together after all. There it was, the perfect distraction, he needed to start planning the next day immediately. These kids shouldn’t be cooped up all day, sitting around they had Duck blood flowing through their veins, they needed to do something, even if it wasn’t an adventure.

Maybe he could take them to the park, eleven year olds still liked the park right? And then maybe then he could take them to get ice cream, maybe catch a movie. Yeah, at least it was the start of a plan. Of course, to do that he would need money. Della and Scrooge won’t give him any, so he’ll have to dig into his old stash. He turned on his heel, and walked toward a specific door. 

He opened it, and took in the place, it smelled like dust, and was filled with boxes. Fethry’s room.

When they were younger, Fethry and Gladstone were around alot, enough so that Fethry needed to use one of the spare rooms, so they gave him this one. And then, Donald and Della proceeded to use it to their advantage, hiding all their contraband under his floorboards. After all, nobody ever expected Fethry to be hiding anything, he was far too innocent. Donald just wishes that Scrooge didn’t find any of it since then.

He walked into the room, and moved a couple boxes aside, revealing the loose floorboard. He hit one end of it sending the other flying up, he caught it, and was met with the sight of several bags of expired candy, and airhorns. He moved them aside, and pulled out a small wooden box. Bingo. 

He opened it, and took out several twenty dollar bills. A couple hundred bucks should be more than enough, right? He stuffed the cash in his pocket, and placed the box and board back. 

He was about to leave when he heard it, a very faint noise, it sounded almost like ringing. He leaned closer to the ground, and tried to trace the noise. It was coming from one of the boxes, it just looked like a regular cardboard box, but there was definitely a ringing coming from inside it. He opened the flaps, and was met with what looked like a really old telephone, though on further inspection, it was a can attached to a string, and the ringing wasn’t electronic, but someone on the other end was just making the noise over and over.

“Hello?” he rasped, picking the can up hesitantly, and holding it near his ear.

“Scrooge is that you? It’s me, Fethry! We got big problems down here, big big problems! I need help right away!” he yelled, the can rattling.

“What? What’s going on?” Donald asked, his eye growing wide with concern.

“No time to explain. Meet me at the lighthouse as soon as you can.” he instructed, and the can went dead. Donald set it down slowly, his cousin needed his help. He didn’t want to wake anyone, but he didn’t have a choice. He ran down the hall, and tore up the stairs, taking them three at a time. 

He opened Scrooge’s door without hesitation, went to his bed, and shook the old duck awake.

“Scrooge!” he croaked, and the trillionaire waved a hand in his general direction, rolling back over, and letting out a loud snore. Donald sighed, he didn’t have time for this. His uncle would forgive him for this later. He reached into the sheets, and picked up his uncle, pulling him out of bed, and dropping the old man to the floor. 

He grunted and leapt to his feet, already brandishing the cane that was next to his bed only a second ago, ready to attack any intruders. 

“Come at me you rotten robber!” he threatened, before squinting, and leaning forward “Donald?”

“Yeah, Fethry’s in trouble! We gotta help him.” Donald explained, 

“Scrooge? Don? What are you doing?” Della wandered in, bleary eyed, no doubt woken by the commotion. Behind her was Huey, Dewey and Webby, probably being the only kids who were willing to get out of bed.

“Fethry’s in trouble? Are you sure?” Scrooge asked

“Yes, he called using a can, and told me how there was a big problem, and that he needed help.” Donald summarised

“Oh, he called the can again, did he?” Scrooge realized, promptly sitting down on the edge of his bed. 

“What?!” Donald exclaimed, what was his uncle doing, his cousin needed help.

“Wait back up, who’s Fethry?” Webby piped up from beside Della.

“Our cousin. Last time I saw him, he was trying to get his degree in marine biology. But that doesn’t matter right now, because he needs our help.” Donald glared at his uncle

“Donald, my boy, sit down. I have to tell you something.” Scrooge sighed, and Donald reluctantly took a seat on the bed, as Della and the kids gathered closer.  
“See Donald, when you, uh...left. Well, we were all a wreck, but Fethry took it particularly hard. Then he found out exactly what happened to you after the funeral, and well…”

“He blamed me.” Della finished, and then visibly shuddered “I’ve never seen him so angry.” 

“And after that, he dropped out of university, and disappeared off the radar for a few months, and when he came back it was clear that he had befallen his bloodline’s curse.” Scrooge rubbed his eyes with his hands, and Donald put his hand over his mouth. Poor Fethry.

“His bloodline’s curse?” Huey asked, pulling out his JWG from under his nightcap.

“The Loon Family Curse. The curse of madness. We had thought it had finally broken with Fethry and Abner. Fethry is a clever lad, and Abner was so stoic, we thought they would be the ones to fight it off. But both of them fell to it.” Scrooge explained “Anyway, when Fethry came back, I gave him a job down in an underwater lab. Every month or so he calls, asking for help. The first couple times, I would send someone, but it was never anything worth the time. It was always something like a rock or a patch of plants. So after the third or fourth time, I stopped answering.” 

“Well, we should still go see him, at the very least he needs to know I’m still alive.” Donald said “Now, where did you say this lab was?”

An hour later, Donald was standing on a dark metal platform, a filthy tan and gold lighthouse, cloaked in a thick layer of fog and the darkness of midnight in front of him. With Webby and that pilot tying up the sub behind him. Della and Scrooge had declined coming, as did Huey, Dewey, and Louie in favor of sleeping. 

“Now remember. Whatever you do, try not to provoke him. I’ve seen it before in Aunt Lulubelle, the Loons can turn on a dime. Just be gentle and kind, and it should all turn out fine.” Webby nodded, and they headed up the rickety metal staircase, Donald’s leg scraping against the steel.

The metal door creaked as it cracked open. Donald peeked inside and saw the back of a loose red sweater and red cap. 

“Fethry?” he called out, putting his hand on his cousin’s shoulder, and the broom clattered to the floor, a piece of paper with a face drawn on it pinned to the broomhead.  
“The hell?” 

“Hey-o!” a duck swung down, hanging upside down by his knees, a large goofy smile on his face. It slid off his beak, as his eyes widened.

“Hi Fethry.” Donald greeted, and the smile returned in full force.

“Hallucination Donald! I knew you would be back if I kept drinking seawater!” Fethry laughed, flipping down from the rafters, a glass in his hand dumping water all over the floor, then throwing it over his shoulder, broken glass covering the floor when the glass shattered. “That’s weird, I don’t remember you having a beard last time I saw you. Or one eye. In fact, where’s your hat? Hallucination Donald always has his hat.”

“Fethry, it’s me.” Donald said, and gripped Fethry’s shoulders, trying to ground his cousin. He didn’t look good. He had stubble, several uneven hairs sticking out of his hat, the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes were massive, he looked severely underweight, and Donald didn’t like his smile, laugh, or the look in his eyes one bit. 

“Y-you’re real?” he stuttered out, his smile fading, grabbing Donald’s face “But, you died. Wait, did I die? Are you here to guide my soul to the afterlife?” his beak split into a grin, making his crazed look way worse. 

“What? No, Fethry, I’m alive. I’m real. I talked to you over the can, remember?” Donald gently asked, gripping his bony shoulders tighter. Fethry was always a little small for his clothes, but he was swimming in them now. 

“Oh, it wasn’t Scrooge then? I should have known.” he said bitterly, before shaking his head vigorously “No, no it wasn’t anyone. It must have been a dream, or something. You’re dead.” Fethry’s voice suddenly took on a deep, dangerous edge “Della killed you. She deserved so much worse than what I gave her.” 

“Listen Fethry, I’m real. Della didn’t kill me, because I’m alive. I’m alive Fethry.” he wrapped his little cousin into a hug, lifting him slightly off the ground. 

“Y-you’re real, you have to be. How? It’s been years.” Fethry asked, tears filling his eyes.

“What can I say, death didn’t suit me.” he joked, chuckling lightly at his own terrible joke.

“Don’t-don’t joke about that.” Fethry scolded, his voice shaking.

“Sorry Fethry.” he untangled his arms from his cousin, and remembered his daughter behind him “Oh, Fethry, this is my daughter. And this is cousin Fethry.”

Webby waved, and Fethry gave a small wave, wiping tears from his eyes.

“She’s like a little Donald.” he gushed, getting on his knee, and pulling her into a hug. He stood up, looking just a spot better than he did earlier. 

“So, Fethry, did you need help?” Donald asked, sure that the answer would be a resounding no.

“Yes, we’ve been having big problems down here, very big problems. I told Scrooge about upkeep, not to mention the intense radiation. But did he listen? Noooo.” he rambled,

“Fethry!” Donald cut him off, snapping him back into focus.

“Right, little Donald, regular Donald, come with me to explore the wonders of the deep! I have a little infestation that I need help clearing, and I can show you my discoveries along the way!” Fethry exclaimed, pulling a large lever on the control panel in the middle of the circular room. 

The room started to sound alarms, and computer screens displayed a large arrow facing down. The room lurched and started to move down, passing by the sub, and the metal supports of the tower, before diving into the cold water below. 

“Please stand clear of the doors, keep all hands and legs inside the aquavator at all times, and please watch your children. Por favor, manténgase alejado de las puertas, mantenga todas las manos y piernas dentro del aquavator en todo momento, y vigile a sus hijos.” Fethry said almost automatically, before violently shaking his head “Anyway, welcome to the ocean’s best kept secret! The McDuck Sub Lab, or as we call it down here the McDuck….Sub.…...Lab.” he shrugged in defeat, and leaned against one of the large windows “Down here, we do all sorts of sciencey things. Like the radiation radiating from the volcanic vents on the ocean floor, causing mass amounts of biological changes in regards to size and intelligence in oceanic samples. Or as we call it, the goshdarn growing critters.” his goofy grin came back in full force.

“Umm, who’s we?” Webby asked tentatively

“Why my team of course, I couldn’t do any of my observations without them.” Fethry said, before his expression turned more concerned. “They’re one of the reasons I called. They’re trapped by a bunch of mutated worms, I barely escaped, and they killed Charles in the process. Between that and losing Mitzy a few weeks back ....” Fethry took off his hat mournfully, revealing a small JWG that balanced on his head, while Donald was secretly hoping that none of the kids took up marine biology.

“I’m very sorry to hear that Fethry.” Donald consoled, and Fethry put his hat back on with a weak smile.

“Thanks Don.” the aquavator screeched to a halt “Well, I won’t let those monsters get the rest of my team. Besides, we have to avenge Charles.” Fethry said as the golden door in front of them opened a crack, and he had to take a crowbar to it. Fethry pried it open, and Donald silently asked for the crowbar, opening his hand, and Fethry gave it to him.

Donald brandished the crowbar as they walked into the observatory, the lights above them flickering, as distant alarms sounded. 

“So Fethry, these worms, what exactly are we dealing with here?” Donald asked, looking around warily.

“I’m not sure. They were mutated from the vents, but we didn’t have time to study them before they attacked us.” Fethry explained, his eyes constantly flitting from one part of the room to another. 

The three Ducks moved through the metal hallways, Fethry leading the way. But with a flash of darkness, he disappeared.

“Fethry!” Donald shouted, and with another cut of the lights, Webby gave a shout and was gone. “Webby!” Donald felt something on his biological leg, and looked down just in time to see a sickly green tentacle wrapped around his foot, before it tugged harshly, dragging him across the floor. Donald swung wildly with the crowbar, but it was to no avail, as the tentacle dragged him into a room filled with the slimy tentacles, where Webby and Fethry were being hung upside down in midair. 

“Oh hi Donald! We found the worms!” Fethry waved and laughed, his head dangerously close to a large mouth filled with serrated teeth. They weren’t tentacles at all, instead giant worms, each green appendage capped with a eyeless, massive mouth. 

“Dad!” Webby screamed, her own feet about to be devoured by another worm. The worm dragging him stopped for a split second, and Donald brought the crowbar down on the creature’s head. It let his leg go, and Donald leapt to his feet, stabbing the stunned worm with the sharp edge of the bar, sending neon green fluid spraying, and the worm fell to the ground, limp. 

“Let them go, you eyeless freaks!” he yelled, swinging the crowbar in wide circles, knocking back the worms that tried to attack him, and stabbing where he could, the green blood of the worms covering the floor as he put countless wounds in the tangle of tentacle-like bodies. 

Fethry and Webby fell to the ground, as the worms abandoned them to attack Donald. He was relentless in his assault, striking worm after worm down, their bodies forming piles on the floor.

The crowbar clattered to the floor when the last worm fell, Donald breathing heavily.

“Dad! Are you okay?” Webby asked, concerned.

“Yeah, I’m good.” he assured her, before turning to his cousin “So, Fethry, your team, are they alright?”

“Here, let me check.” Fethry requested, walking into the darkness, and returning not a second later. “They all made it through. Now, meet the distinguished team!” he pulled a jar out from behind his back, filled with tiny specks of blue light. “Team meet little Donald, and Donald. Guys, meet Sylvia, Cameron, Phillip, Fishbreath, Simon, Virgil, Beverly, Nicholas, Alistor, Bengi, Dr. Krill, and the ever feisty Hans.”

“Wait, your team is a bunch of krill?” Webby asked incredulously

“What? Their natural bioluminesce will guarantee that we have a light source as we go down deeper.” he tried to defend, walking back into the aquavator, with Donald and Webby close behind.

“The fuck Fethry? We came down here, risked our lives, almost got eaten by giant worms, for a jar of krill?” Donald yelled “And let me guess, Mitzy, Charles, also krill? When you tell someone that lives are on the line, you need to clarify that they’re krill lives!” he sighed, “You got your krill, now take us home.” he commanded, and Fethry pulled a lever, facing away from his cousins and the aquavator started moving up. “Honestly Fethry, why the hell do you care so much about those krill anyway?” Donald snapped, and Fethry turned around sharply, tears filled his eyes. 

In a flash, he was on Donald, holding his collar and pinning him to the glass. 

“And who the fuck am I supposed to care about? Huh Don?” his voice took on that deeper, threatening quality “You, Abner, Gus, Grandma Coot, my parents are dead, Gladstone may as well be, Della abandoned us, took those eggs with her, and Scrooge, the only one I had left, put me down here to die. Ten years, for ten years all I’ve had is generation after generation of krill. You know why? Because my family abandoned me. Every. Single. One of them. They left me for dead Donald.” he buried his head in Donald’s shoulder, tears flowing down his beak. Laughter and sobs wracked his body, and Donald pulled him tighter into a hug.

“Fethry-” 

An explosion sounded off, as the room they were in shook and sank like a stone. Fethry and Donald broke apart and fell to the floor, as they quickly descended.

“What’s going on?” Webby asked, bracing herself against a wall as they fell.

“Something must have cut the cable! Brace for impact!” Fethry yelled, dropping the jar of krill as the aquavator stopped suddenly as it hit the bottom, throwing the trio into the metal ceiling, and tumbling into the glass. The aquavator landed sideways, a rock puncturing one of the windows. The stone mostly blocked the hole, but the room started to fill with seawater. Donald pushed himself up off the floor with a groan, he was fairly certain he had some glass embedded in his skin, and he may have bruised a rib. He stumbled to his feet, and looked around himself. 

The water leaking into the room went up to their knees at this point, and was only increasing. The aquavator was only lit by a flashing red emergency light, and an alarm rang through the room. Webby laid on the floor, slightly submerged, Donald walked over and extended a hand, she took it, and was pulled up to her feet. 

"Dad what do we do?" Webby asked, and Donald looked around. In the crash, a few containers fell down, spilling their contents. So floating in the shallow water was a few wetsuits and oxygen tanks. They could swim to safety!

He picked up the first wetsuit, but the glass helmet was completely shattered. The second, burst pipe. The third, cracked helmet. The fourth, ripped to shreds. Just his luck.

The oxygen tanks were slightly dented, but seemed to all be intact. He picked one up, and his hand brushed against something metal, it was the crowbar. A plan quickly formed in his head, he didn’t like it, but they didn’t have a choice. 

Webby was there, but Fethry wasn’t. Donald looked around, trying to locate his cousin. Fethry was sitting on the glass panel, his knees pressed against his chest as he rocked back and forth mumbled incoherent babble to himself, while seawater crept up his body.

"Fethry?" Donald called out, but he didn't respond, his whispers only increased in speed. "Fethry! We have to get out of here!" 

“Go on without me.” he lifted up his head.

“What? Fethry, we don’t have time. We need to go! And I’m not going without you.”

“Why not? Tell me, look me in the eyes and tell me that anyone missed me in those ten years. Tell me that I even crossed your mind before I rang that can. Face it, I don’t need to exist anymore Donald. Why bother? My mind is a prison, my body is a prison and so is this laboratory. I was sent here to die, Donald. This is meant to be my tomb, leagues under the sea.” he shook his head lightly, “Did you know that Abner had a wife, and a little boy before he died? I didn’t. Not until five years after he died. You wanna know why? It’s because nobody cares Donald. No one in their right mind wants to associate with me, and who can blame them? I’m violent, unstable, a failure, a screw-up, a crackpot, a Loon.” he spat bitterly “You know, when I found out what happened between you and Della, do you know what I did? I went to the houseboat, I screamed at her, right in front of her kids, and when she tried to get me out. I hit her, we fought on the deck, and I was so angry, I won. I could have killed her, I almost did. Abner was right to keep me away from his family. I’m too dangerous to be a player in this game, so, I may as well go ahead and remove myself from the board. Finally do something right with my life.” Fethry smiled sadly, sounding truly sane for the first time, already chest deep in water. They were running out of time.

“Fethry, I can’t tell you what you did was right. I can’t tell you that Della and Scrooge care about you. Hell, I can’t even tell you that you crossed my mind until this morning, but there is something I can tell you. You’ve broken almost every tie with your family, but they can be mended. You can mend them. You have seven cousins, an uncle, a sister-in-law, and a nephew. And they don’t know it yet, but they love you, they miss you. All you have to do is remind them Fethry. All you have to do is live.” Donald reached out, the water was up to Fethry’s neck, and Webby had to tread water to stay afloat. He hesitated, before taking it. Donald pulled him to his feet, and picked up the crowbar.  
“I need you two to hold on to me and your breaths with everything you got.” Donald instructed, and Webby and Fethry nodded, wrapping their arms around his middle. He picked up an oxygen tank with his other hand, and smashed the window in front of them. 

Seawater poured into the room, quickly going over their heads. Donald swam out into the open ocean, and jammed the crowbar into the bottom of the oxygen tank. It punctured the metal, compressed air shooting them toward the surface. Donald held onto the tank for dear life, while Fethry and Webby held onto Donald for dear life.

Through the pain, Donald held his eye open, the pale light of the surface growing nearer, and nearer. His lungs burned as the speed forced the air out of his lungs, his head was growing light, and he could feel the grip on his waist diminish a bit. 

He let go of the tank as they broke the surface a second later, all gasping for breath, and struggling to stay afloat. The pale light of the moon and stars reflected off the waves, and for the first time, Donald was grateful for the light’s existence. As he detached his metal leg, and held it one of his hands.

“Is everyone okay?” Donald asked, and Webby held up a weak thumbs up, and Fethry nodded, “Alright, follow up, does anyone see the platform?” he asked, and was met with shaking heads, “Ugh, who knows how far that tank sent us.”

“On the bright side, I think I know what broke the cable.” Fethry piped up. Gone was his deeper, level, frightening voice, and his less-than-sane sounding one had returned in full force.

“Really? What?” Webby asked

“That giant technicolor leviatan.” he said calmly, pointing down.

Donald looked, and sure enough, there was a giant beast coming right towards them. It had spines that glowed bright blue and pink, as well as massive bioluminescent blue eyes.

“What is that?” Webby screeched

“Looks to be a krill mutated to a ridiculous size by the volcanic vents.” Fethry stated nonchalantly, as it came closer.

“What do we do? I lost the crowbar to the sea, and we can’t fight that with our bare hands.” Donald lamented

“I don’t think we need to worry about that. It’s Mitzy, I can talk to her!” Fethry exclaimed excitedly.

Donald traded looks with his daughter and sighed “Alright. I trust you Fethry. Do your thing.” 

The krill broke the surface of the water and rose above them. It was at least a hundred feet tall, glowing pink and blue. Seawater crashed around them as it fell from the slippery shell of Mitzy, her entrance making massive waves that bobbed them up and down. She swung her antenna and legs in frantic circles, causing more surf. 

Fethry however, seemed unfazed, and opened his beak, taking in a deep breath, and started to sing.

“Blue krill, blue krill, under the sea. True blue little friends, I sing to thee. Wet water above, and wetter water below. Let your friendly glow show the way through the ooooooo…..cean.” Fethry held the last note, and Mitzy’s movements slowed, before stopping completely. She sank below the water, her spines and eyes ceasing to glow. Donald breathed a sigh of relief, but not a second later, his hanging foot found the slippery hard shell. 

Mitzy rose out from the water, bringing the three up with her. Soon, they were hanging several dozen feet in the air, and moving forward at breakneck speeds. Donald and Webby held on for dear life, while Fethry got unsteadily to his feet. Holding his cap to his head as the wind whipped around them. In only a few minutes, the tall structure of the lighthouse came into view.

“Good girl Mitzy!” Fethry exclaimed as she came to a stop right in front of the platform. She lowered her head, and they slid off onto the metal.

Golden light suddenly flooded the area as the sun peeked over the horizon, the feathers of his cousin and daughter glowed in the morning light and Mitzy’s pink skin glistened. 

“So, uh, you guys wanna get ice cream? I know this good twenty-four hour parlor.” Donald offered

“Yeah, sure.” Fethry and Webby nodded

They walked into the shop, water still dripping from their clothes, and blood starting to stain parts of their clothing. 

“So um, we’ll take one black licorice, one caramel, and one sea salt, please.” Donald said, as they walked up to the counter. Donald pulled out a bill clip out of his pocket, and promptly remembered that it was soaking wet. The bills were completely in tatters, and half the dye was seeping out of them. “Uhhhhhh-”

“Throw in a cookie dough, and a mint chocolate chip, and I’ve got it covered.” a sudden scottish brogue came from behind them, and Scrooge slapped down a couple twenties, while Della stood behind him. 

“Here you are Mr. McDuck.” the cashier stated, handing them each their cups.

“Keep the change.” he said, and the five made their way to a table that sat on a dock, overlooking the water. 

“Della.” Fethry said, plopping down in a metal chair.

“Fethry.” she acknowledged, and the red clad duck sighed.

“Listen, Della. What happened ten years ago, I’m so, so sorry.” Fethry apologized, his voice turning serious.

“No Fethry I’m sorry. I should have reacted better, you obviously were in a bad place, and I didn’t help.” Della smiled weakly

“No, it’s me who should be sorry.” Scrooge piped up, “Fethry, when I sent you to that underwater lab, I took myself that I was doing it to spare you pain. Surrounding you with the sea, something that you loved. Giving you peace. But the real reason I did it was to be able to forget about you. I wanted to forget about a lot of things then. And for that, I will be eternally remorseful. But, I want to make it up to you, I want you to come home with us, be part of the family again.” Scrooge offered, as they finished their desserts.

“I want to, but I can’t.” Fethry sighed “I have a nephew and sister-in-law to meet. Besides, I think it’s time I finished my doctorate paper, I have so many new ideas to add.” he said brightly, standing and extending his arms. They leapt to their feet, and wrapped him in a group hug. 

“I thought you might say that. Here, remember that you’re always welcome at the manor. You’re family after all. Now, make sure to call, because there’ll always be someone to answer it.” Scrooge pressed a satellite phone into Fethry’s hand, and he looked up, tears filling his eyes.

“Thank you, all of you. You saved my life.” he hugged Donald and Webby, then walked to the edge of the dock, and climbed up onto the railing, turning to face them.

“Donald, Della, Scrooge, Webby.” he gave a two-fingered salute, and tipped, falling backwards like a board into the water. They rushed to the railing just as Fethry broke the surface, this time riding on the back of his massive krill, and rode into the horizon.

“Bless me bagpipes.” Scrooge cursed softly, as the beast and rider faded into the rising sun.

“Hold on, did we ever tell him my name was Webby?” Webby piped up, and Donald gave a shrug.

“Now who wants to go back to bed!?” Della asked, and was met with hearty cheers.  
“Thought so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies to any Charles fans out there, but I thought his death added a lot to the story. However, if the commenters wish it, I am willing to add a 'MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH' warning so that future readers will be able to prepare for the tragic death of the beloved krill Charles.


	28. Sorry guys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A humble author's note.

M'kay, so I've had some serious issues as of late, keeping me away from the story. I'm back, and I do fully intend on continuing the story, however, I recently read over my previous chapters, and I don't think they are quite the quality I wish they were at. So, I am launching a major rewrite of the first 25 chapters as well as adding a few more chapters in the middle of that block. So tldr, I'm back, taking a month or two to rewrite practically everything first. Sorry about any/all of you who clicked hoping for another chapter, but I swear they are coming.  
Sorry again.  
your_friendly_neighborhood_fan_author

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos are amazing, comments are better.


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